The Sun Child
An impenetrable fog descended upon Earth. Although it was the middle of the day lanterns were lit and hung out upon the rafters of the wood huts of the village. The fog came with a wind that whistled through the cracks and floor boards. Children that had once been running through the field of waist high corn playing tag or hide-and-seek now began to run towards their homes trying to beat the fog that swallowed up everything in its path. If one looked hard enough they could see two robe clad figures walking through the mist towards the fields. The stalks of corn and cotton began to sway wildly as the two people walked farther into the mist. A little girl of about five years of age looked and was surprised to see that the taller of the two was dressed in shimmering gold robes blowing against the wind. One of his arms was wrapped around his walking companion. The girl saw that she was smaller and she was also dressed differently. Elegant silver robes draped her body and emitted a pale glow that seemed to both drive the fog away and create it at the same time. She carried a small bundle in her arms. By this time the two figures reached the center of the field. They were practically invisible now. The little girl kept on watching long enough to see the gold figure take the bundle from the woman and lay it gently on the ground. When he stood up he embraced the silver woman as if she was crying. Then the girl made the irreversible decision to blink.
When she opened her eyes the two figures were gone and so was the dense fog. People were beginning to come out of their houses now puzzled looks on their faces. They paused long enough at the door of their huts to extinguish the lighted lanterns. The little girl also came out of her house. She had to literally tear herself away from her window where she saw the people in the fog. She ran to where she thought they had walked. The girl found soft footprints in the ground. They weren't the giant feet of the villagers but smaller and more delicate as if they wore sandals or shoes made of soft and fine leather. Just at that moment, as if on cue, a soft wailing began from amid the swaying stalks of cotton. The white heads painted a nice picture against the blue sky. She would have to come out and paint it later. She was a painter.
Loud voices began to waft from the village now most were calling out her name, "Madinina! Madinina! Where are you? Madinina!"
She wanted to run back and assure her parents that she was indeed alright but not yet. Her curiosity was too strong for that. She followed the prints to the center of the field where a bundle of finely woven cloth lay. At first she thought it was just a pile of rags but when it moved she jumped back in surprise. She moved closer and gently pushed the top of the blanket aside. Inside the bundle lay a small baby. He was unlike anything she had ever seen. While her hair was long and dark reaching all the way down to her waist his was short and light almost the color of the golden sun. And he looked up at her with the same curiosity that she looked at him with. His eyes also startled her they were a magnificent shade of blue. It was the same color as the sky on a rich afternoon. As a matter of fact it was the exact color of the sky at that particular moment.
The voices from the village were closer now and more frantic, "Madinina? Where are you?"
"I'm over here papa! Come quick I found something," she shouted back.
The giant feet came pounding making the earth beneath her feet quake ever so slightly. They stopped short seeing the wiggling bundle of cloth. Only Madinina's mother had the courage to step forward and pick up the sleeping infant.
"It's only a baby Tilon! Why be so frightened?"
She gasped as she moved the blanket aside revealing the odd colored hair and eyes. The town priest wriggled his way through the increasing crowd at an attempt to inspect the source of commotion for himself. At first he thought it might be a dead heifer lying in the middle of the field killed from the fog. But his gut pulled him in a different direction. He saw Madinina's mother in the center and wandered what was wrong with her. Surely it was not the baby she carried. It was way too early for the baby to be born. Only 3 months had passed since her pregnancy had become obvious; that indicated she had conceived just about 7 months ago. But it was not that. Shima, Madinina's mother, was still as pregnant as ever but she held a shimmering bundle of cloth in her arms.
"Let me see that Shima," the old priest said as his voice quivered.
Shima started to hand the baby over but the priest shook his head.
"The blanket first please."
She carefully unwrapped the baby and a scroll fell out from among the many folds. The blanket had been carefully woven of the finest materials. One could say the swatch of cloth was made of the cloth of the gods. Embroidered on the cloth were two of the most important celestial beings. The two were fused into a single circle; one half was the sun and the other was a moon. The sun's eye was woven so that any movement of the blanket would make the eye seem like it was moving. The moon's eye however was closed represented only by a single inverted arc. Similar to the shapes of the valleys in the area. From this eye silver tears were being shed forming the many stars on the blanket. The baby began to wail now that its body was exposed to the cold. The priest hurried and gave the blanket back. As soon as the soft cloth touched the baby's skin he quieted down.
"You should get him inside Shima. Tilon make a mush of crushed grains and mix it with some of your cow's milk. Feed it to the baby slowly and then find him a soft place to rest. Also keep him warm, he does not have much protection against the cold." The priest shook his head wearily, "I need to meditate upon this."
He hobbled his way through the large crowd towards his own small but well lit hut. It was on the edge of the village not far from the road leading out of town. A heavy smell of incense came from that direction. The priest claimed that it would give the villagers clarity and the spiritual strength needed to get through the hard seasons. When he looked behind him the crowd dispersed. When he turned back towards his hut however he saw something that stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Take good care of our son priest. Tell no one of his inheritance until he comes of age. Let him live a normal life. We will watch over this town and make sure it has great abundance and falls under no harm for the rest of its existence." With that the golden robed figure and the veiled silver figure vanished in the blink of an eye as if they were never there to begin with.
That night the priest returned to his hut and prayed for the longest time in his life to the pagan gods the villagers of that day so lovingly worshipped. He promised the gods in his prayer that he would not let any harm come to the boy that had graced the village with his presence. When dusk fell that night the stars seemed much more numerous as if more tears from the moon's eyes had been shed.