The woman closed her shutters and Francis was isolated again in the midst of the frosty village. But Francis was patient, and he waited in the cold with no proper coat; he only wore a thin cloak that had been patched a few more times than it should have been. The snow turned blue in the twilight and a wolf howled in the distance.
Francis said, “Come here, Brother Wolf.”
A brown and grey wolf strode out into the street, snow sticking to its muzzle. A grey cloud of breath rose from its fangs, and its eyes glowed a brighter red than the candles that shone behind the windows of the town. The wolf raised its head to the night sky and howled.
Francis walked to the wolf slowly and took a bit of roast chicken from his pocket. The wolf growled. Francis tore a bit of the meat off and threw it to the animal. The wolf ate the chicken in one bite and looked at Francis, licking his lips.
Francis said, “Brother Wolf, if it pleases you to make peace, the people of this place will give you food as long as you live, and I know that it is only because of hunger that you have done evil. Do you promise me that you will do no more harm to man or beast?”
The wolf bent his head down, as if to make a reply. Francis threw a little more of the chicken to the wolf. The wolf ate the chicken quickly and walked to Francis with its head down. Francis fed him from his hands and the wolf ate more. Francis then gave the wolf the bone and the wolf took it and lay down with it in his mouth. Francis stroked the fur of the wolf and the wolf chewed the bone. When the bone was gone, the wolf licked Francis’s face.
Francis said, “I know it is a terrible thing to be hungry. I will make sure you are hungry no more.”
Francis walked to the window of the woman who had told him the wolf was dangerous and said, “Woman, if you want to be friends with this wolf, please bring a small scrap of meat.”
The woman opened the window a crack and saw the wolf and Francis standing together. She got a bit of meat out and tried to give it to Francis.
Francis said, “No, give it directly to him so he knows that you are his friend.”
The woman threw the meat to the wolf, who ate the meat in one swallow.
Francis said, “See, the wolf will know that you are his friend, give him meat when he comes by your door.”
The woman said, “I can’t believe he isn’t attacking you.”
Francis said, “He is a friend of mine, one of God’s creatures.”
The woman shut her window slowly, as not to disturb the wolf; her eyes were as wide as Francis had ever seen on a woman.
Epworth
Susanna lay in the bed of the rectory surrounded by two of her oldest daughters. She felt comfortable except for her cheeks, which were warm with fever. Her oldest daughter looked very innocent as she lay asleep in a rocking chair by the bed, her face hidden by a tumble of hair.
Her second eldest daughter sat at the foot of the bed, her long brown hair flowed over a few of the freckles on her cheek. She asked, “Can I get you anything, Mom?”
Susanna barely turned her head and said, “No, thank you. I don’t need anything.” A small candle flickered in the room; shadows moved across the simple furnishings.
Thunder sounded, and the oldest daughter was startled awake and let out a small scream. The other daughter laughed at her.
Susanna sat up and said, “Don’t laugh at your sister.”
The cold constantly crept into the room from the outside winter air. The three-story house’s thin walls and straw roof didn’t protect them well from the cold. The bitter air snuck in through cracks and carried with it the smell of dank dreariness common in rainstorms. After a few minutes, another smell crept silently into the bedroom; it seemed like the smell of leaves burning in the distance.
A scream shook the household and Susanna jumped out of bed, her illness forgotten. She yelled, “That’s Hetty!” The two daughters jumped up, their eyes bouncing back and forth trying to figure out what to do.
From the street below, voices called out, “Fire! Fire!” The smoky smell grew stronger and it burned their eyes.
Susanna heard someone go from her husband’s bedroom next door; soon, her husband, Samuel, entered the room, his tall form filling the entryway, and his strong face covered in shadow. He said, “We need to get all the children out, the house is on fire.”
Susanna went into the hall and saw Hetty covered with ashes. Her hands went to cover her mouth in her shock, but she didn’t hesitate long before acting. Susanna and Samuel helped her down the stairs. The smoke grew thicker, and when they reached the bottom of the stairs, Samuel went to the nursery to get the five children there and the maid.
Susanna thought of her son, John, who slept in the attic. She ran upstairs while her husband was waking the children. ”John!” She yelled, and ran down the hall. Smoke obscured her vision and flames licked the walls. She could only make out five feet in front of her. She ran up the stairs and opened the door to the attic. The fire burned intensely everywhere she looked. The path to where John stood was an inferno; some of the planks of the floor had given way already. Her heart collapsed, but she knew she had to gather strength to help the rest of her family.
She ran back down the stairs and tried the door to the study; her husband’s valuable books and writings were safeguarded there. The door was locked. She went downstairs, but the fire there burned much worse. The front door was open, so she tried to go through it, but a gust of wind, driven by the intense heat, blew a sheet of smoke and flames at her. She tried again, but the fire attacked her in a wave of painful heat.
Susanna tried to get a running start, but this only caused her to be thrown on the floor by the force of the flames. While on the floor, she knelt and prayed for guidance, My Lord, please grant me safely out of your furnace so that I may raise my family. When she opened her eyes, she spotted a shawl on the sofa. She wrapped it around herself and ran out the front door.
She didn’t see her husband, but she saw some of her children. She went over to group of them, and asked the small woman who was their maid, Bettie, “Do you know if all of them got out all right?”
Bettie said, “I don’t know about John, but the rest have gotten out just fine. I don’t think that any of them are hurt seriously, just a few minor burns and scrapes.”
Susanna said, “Thank the Lord for his graciousness. We have to figure how to get John out, I tried to go through the attic, but it was impossible to reach him.”
Bettie said, “Oh, no, I thought we got all of them out!”
Just then, her frantic husband appeared and said, “Have you seen my wife, she was inside, I tried to get in to save her but the flames beat me back?”
Susanna said, “It’s me, Samuel, don’t you recognize me?”
The rector examined his wife, “Why, it is you! You are covered head to foot in ashes; I never would have recognized you like you are. Were you getting John, the rest of the children are all right?”
Susanna said, “I tried to, but the flames were too much for me.”
A neighbor yelled at them, “Your boy is at the front of the house at a window.”
The couple ran to the front of the house. The five-year-old John was screaming, his face covered with streaks of ashes. He stretched his hands out to where no one could possibly reach.”
Susanna said, “You must get on top of each other’s shoulders to reach the boy.”
The neighbors looked at one another for a second, but then they consented, and one by one they climbed on top of Samuel’s shoulders and made a human ladder. When all the men had gotten on, they were still about five feet short.
Susanna shouted, “You have to jump John, do it now.”
John jumped up, but was not able to get his body through the window. His head disappeared for a few seconds and then he looked through the window again; this time, he appeared taller. His legs stuck through the window and, instead of jumping like he intended, he fell, but was caught by the neighbor on top. The human chain wavered for a few seconds,
but them it stabilized. Then the roof caved in; if John has stayed in the attic a few seconds more, he would have been killed. The neighbors passed him down and the ladder dissipated.
Susanna inspected her child, and determining him to be free of serious injuries, she hugged him, and then said, “You are truly a brand plucked from the fire.” Then she took his hand and went to his father, who hugged him.
John said, “I had to push a chest over to stand on to jump out of the window.”
Susanna said, “John, that was very smart of you.” Then she turned to Samuel, “I tried to save your books, but I couldn’t. They were worth so much money; I can’t believe that our house and the books are gone.”
Samuel said, “Now that you and all the children are preserved.…” For a moment, he was too choked up to speak. He turned and addressed those around who had helped him save John. “Come, neighbors, let us kneel down; let us give thanks to God. He has given me all my eight children. Let the house go; though I have no possessions, I am rich enough.”
The Ship
John studied a book on German since there were twenty-six German Moravians on board. He was cramped in the small cabin in which there was only room for his bed, which he was sitting on to study, and a shelf on which rested a few papers and two candles. A small porthole was built into the wall, which he had only looked out twice during the journey so far. It didn’t open, but if it did, then he would have done so to get rid of the musty air. Some thunder banged far away, and John could hear a child start to cry. He concentrated all the more. He knew he could concentrate—he was disciplined, after all.
It had taken John a while to get used to the gentle rocking of the waves on the ocean, but this night, each wave seemed to be a little less gentle. The candles lighting his material began to flicker, and, for the first time, he began to wonder if the night would be productive after all. He strained his eyes and sharpened his mind to his task.
Another child started to cry outside his cabin, and John had to focus on each word to be able to learn it. The waves could not be called gentle at all now, and John stressed over each letter. One of the candles fell on the floor and John reached down to pick it up, but then the biggest wave so far hit the ship. John half fell on the floor, he was wedged in between the bed and the wall.
John wasn’t hurt, so he grabbed the candle and crawled back on the bed. Now, he could hear a muffled sound from up on deck. He could not recall ever hearing the crew from his cabin, they had to be shouting at each other. That was when his annoyance left him and he began to feel a sense of fear.
John looked out the porthole; ocean spray blocked his visibility, and he couldn’t make out anything but water. John started to laugh at himself. What had I expected to see out there? More thunder crashed outside and he could hear quite a few of the eighty English colonists in the cabins around him begin to talk. He, apparently, was not the only once to feel apprehension; this strangely made him feel better, a little. I had better find Charles. He’s working on one of his sermons. I will try and squeeze into his cabin and I’ll comfort him and he can comfort me.
The second candle went out from the violent motion of the waves. John fumbled for the door and opened it. An oil lamp bobbed back and forth in the hallway, illuminating the doors and the exit to the back of the ship. The corridor looked narrow, even more so where support beams ran up the walls. John’s eyes went to the floor. WATER, THERE IS WATER ON THE FLOOR. THERE MUST BE A LEAK. John grabbed his chest and tried to calm himself. It is raining. There are probably a few waves that have gone over the edge of the railing, there is not that much water on the floor.
The boat rocked violently and John stumbled. Through the door of the cabin opposite him, he heard a woman say, “I told you I had a bad feeling about this voyage! We’re all going to die, I know it!”
A man’s voice said, “Don’t say that, you are only going to upset yourself! Listen to the children cry in the other cabins; if they hear you, they will be more upset than they are.”
John was tumbled to the ground by the worst wave yet; now a few of the adults were crying out as well. The dampness from the floor soaked through the whole front of John’s shirt. The corridor seemed to brighten; John thought perhaps a passenger had opened a door, but when he glanced up, he saw the oil lamp had fallen to the floor and now the oil from the lamp burned on the wood floor.
John didn’t hesitate; he pushed some of the water on the ground to the lamp and the fire lessened. He thought if he could just do it again from the other side, the fire would be out completely. John jumped to the other side of the fire, being careful not to get cut on the broken glass of the lamp and scooped water from where it was caught by a support beam. As the wave went forth from his hands to douse the fire, a wave struck the ship, and John’s hand went into a piece of glass. Pain shot through his arm from the wound on the side of his hand. He strained to keep from taking the Lord’s name in vain. At least, he thought, the fire is out.
He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but there was no light for his eyes to get used to. Charles’ cabin is only three doors down from mine; I still should be able to get there. He felt along the corridors until he got to the second door. A tremendous boom sounded, and then it sounded like all of the wood on the boat was creaking at the same time. John heard rope snap and the boat tilted. He prayed, Oh God, I know I am a sinner, please deliver me from this terror.
But more ropes broke and then there was a horrible crunching noise, then a loud crash, and the boat was knocked down a foot or more. Sawdust fell from the ceiling and got into John’s eyes. The boat started turning around in a circle, and it seemed like a thousand people were shouting all at once. A wave of water hit his feet; more water must have come aboard.
A thousand voices cried out in the night, “The mast has broken, the main mast has broken!”
“We are all going to die.”
“Blood, all I see is blood, are you okay, Mattie?”
“The ship is going to sink.”
John decided to ignore the cacophony of voices and started to walk again to Charles’ room. Another huge wave crashed onto the ship, and John’s head was knocked on a support beam. He wandered for a minute, dazed, until he was aware of what was happening again. Terror poured from every part of his body and he felt along the wall until he found a support beam and he clung to it with all his faith.
The wound in his right hand throbbed, and the screams of his fellow Englishmen hurt his ears. After a few minutes of clinging for his life, he found another sound among the din. What madness is this, it sounds like a song. It sounds like singing. Could it be an angel to take me out of this hell? John wandered closer to the sound, and it indeed was singing. It was not the song of an angel, but it seemed to be like the German he was learning. A few steps closer and he could tell that it was a German hymn.
They’re singing? He thought, singing. I’m not sure whether to be comforted or horrified at this. He had to take a few steps closer to the noise, as if he thought it would dissipate if he approached. Instead, he heard a small child talk calmly. He hadn’t learned enough German yet to make out what the boy said, but a man answered him, also in calm tones. Every nerve in John’s body felt as if it would snap in two at any moment, and his hands were shaking. How could this be?
He knelt down and listened to the German Moravians talk calmly; every once and a while, he heard someone say a word he understood—God, grace or Jesus—but he didn’t understand most of it. He listened for an hour, and then realized the waves had died down to their usual gentle slopes. He got up and thought about how the ship was laid out. He had been confused and wasn’t thinking clearly because he was frightened, but he was all right now, and he walked back to his cabin in the darkness. He could barely feel the pain in his hand now; he thought it was very serious at the time, but now he knew better. He felt his way along. I’m not sure how I will tell which one is my cabin, he thought, but then a crunching sound came from his feet and he k
new he was only one door from his own cabin.
John opened the doors to his cabin and lit a candle. The small room brightened and he could make out his bed and papers that were on the floor now. He didn’t care; he lay down and dreamt of shipwrecks, hymns, and angels.
95 theses
It was the day we know as Halloween, but no one wore costumes or went door to door searching for treats. Dull gray clouds obscured the sun and took the sharpness off colors. Martin wandered past a row of trees, which now looked like sticks, carrying a few papers, a hammer, and nails. He wondered towards Castle Church, which stood fifty feet tall; it looked as it were a hundred shades of stone gray in the darkening sky. A few students walked about and some of the surrounding houses had orangish lights shining through their windows.
Another professor nailed a thesis on the door of the Castle Church. He asked, “How’s it going, Professor Luther?”
Martin said, “Not so well. I had another parishioner tell me they weren’t going to repent because of the sale of indulgences. I have to do something to try and stop it.”
The professor asked, “Is that what you have brought?”
Martin said, “Yes, it is what I have brought.”
The professor said, “Then I guess I won’t have very many people show up to debate me over the usefulness of Plato in modern times.”
Martin said, “No offense, but I hope not. This may not affect very many people, these things never do, but if we can impress them upon the minds of the thinking people, then we can effect change.”
The professor said, “As long as the wrong people don’t see it too soon.”
Martin asked, “What do you mean?”
The professor said, “The Pope’s agents.”
Martin said, “I don’t think that the Pope would go against the basic philosophies of his own Church. I plan on sending a copy to Albert of Mainz. If they are guilty of conspiracy in this regard, then they deserve a chance to openly debate the matter. If anyone can show me with Scriptures or plain reason where I am in error, then I will recant. Otherwise they should, it is that simple.”