#FunFriday Here is a short story I wrote this morning. Sven the blacksmith worked his metal and thought about life. He moved the metal from the fire where the heat weakened the stubborness of the steel, and then to the anvil where his hammer would shape it. Fire. Anvil. Fire. Anvil. It had been his father’s business before him and he regretted not having a son to carry it on. Instead he had three daughters, triplets. His sweet wife had died birthing them, guaranteeing there would never be any more children. Fire. Anvil. Fire. Anvil. His daughters might have been very pretty if he had not been a widower, and a blacksmith. But it was necessary for them to help him, and all three had grown brawny. In a culture that valued petite females he was embarrassed for his three daughters who were broader at the shoulders than most of the men in town. Fire. Anvil. Fire. Anvil. Never had he been more saddened by the fact than the day he found out they were teased regularly. He might have never known but hot tempered Emma had punched down Milford, the carpenter’s son. Fire. Anvil. Fire. Anvil. Then he thought about this past winter. Fierce storms had decimated the town. His daughters had been able to endure because of their strength. Even their elderly neighbors on each side survived because the girls had used their strength to chop extra wood for them, and to dig out their homes, root cellars and outhouses. Fire. Anvil. As spring melted the harshness of winter, old Mrs. Carlson’s grandson had moved in to help. Her stories of the girl next door had caught the young man’s heart and soon he was engaged to the blacksmith’s eldest daughter. On the other side, Mrs. Ingersol had given many testimonies at church about his good daughters. The parson’s son investigated the kind hearted girls, and soon was asked the hand of the middle daughter. Fire. That left Emma, hot headed Emma. She was sitting in the shop watching him teach Milford to shape metal. Milford had found her irritable ever since he found out the hard way that she was spirited enough to stand up to him. Milford had disliked competing with his many brothers in carpentry. He wanted to learn from Sven the secrets of fire and anvil. The final lesson was the most important. After the metal had found the shape he wanted it to have, he plunged the hot steel into the water to temper it. At this point the work produced not steel and metal, but an object—a tool or utensil. Its beauty was found not just in appearance, but also in usefulness. Sven taught Milford the lessons, but he also thought about God’s work in his life.
Posted on: Fri, 12 Jul 2013 15:00:55 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015