Rainbows

There was an elder woman who sat upon the highest majestic mountains

High above the valleys below and the beautiful rolling hills

Her ordained job was to oversee the habitants who roamed its sacred grounds

Each and every day these citizens would speak goodness to be settled upon the mountains.

One day a storm brewed on the horizon turning the beautiful lush valley below dark

The overseer made revisions to make sure its residents was secured, dry, and gave everyone self-assurance.

And this too shall past

The overseer noticed a fragile and loathsome silhouette approaching, as she banged on the door, begging for shelter. A place to rest her soul in discord and turmoil of the raging seas roaring and the wind howling in the background.

The overseer opened the door portal small window to peek out and to keep the elements at bay, she glimpsed the appearance of the woman. She took in, as she assumed, the peasant’s appearance and slammed the door portal close refusing the woman's entrance.

The beautiful sun finally returned, flowers blooming, jasmine laden scent sailing throughout the air.

For the love of the overseer’s favorite morning enjoyment she accidently burned her tongue, blisters instantly formed.

Yet, for the overseer’s faithfulness she noticed she needed supplies, water and wood.
 
Therefore, she donned her cape and long black coat, left the entrance of her mountain gates to her most trusted and loyal associate and off she went.

A storm was fast approaching, as she made her way through the valley, up the hills, and over the mountains.

Heavy pelts of rain begin to pierce her skin, she tripped and fell over a stone, her attire became muddy.

Within her accident she had lost her shoes.

The overseer continued to make the long trekked up the mountains. She saw the receiving light beaming from the mountain peaks she called home.

She tried to let out a small sigh of relief it was impossible due to her tongue blistering, permitting her not to speak.

The overseer’s attire now hung like lead against her skin, her feet were now calloused and swollen.

As she approached the entrance gates to her mountains, she heard the wind howling in the distance, witnessing it sweeping everything within its incoming path.

The overseer banged on the door.

Her most trusted and loyal associate opened the small door portal. His inquisitive eyes took in the stranger’s appearance as he glanced up and down; he noticed the caked mud to her skin, barefoot, and squeaking as the stranger spoke.

The overseer’s most trusted and loyal associate instantly slammed the door portal in the assumingly stranger’s face.

As the story goes, everything was swept away by the howling wind in its dangerous path.

The moral of the story, always give mental sanctuary for those who appear less than capable to give it to themselves and judge not, let ye be not judged.

Matthew 25:40
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

NoPoo #105 (03-23-21)