//------------------------------// // Songs and Sermon-Readings // Story: Christentine // by Arn //------------------------------// The pastor's wife tried to suggest the little ponies be gentle pulling bell but they didn't listen. They never listened! So all hope that fewer might attend due to the lack of ringing was dissipated in the vibrations of the bells, soon given, the cord, to the two plain clothes officers ,clueless, confused, looking at the rope. What to do? Half heated pull the bell ding likewise as pony ignoring you. "No!"laughed a jolly little fellow."You have to keep the rhythm like this!" and he tugged on the cord so hard it picked him off the ground laughing all the way. The guards did the same and soon were making merry! "Glad they're having fun..." Thought Maples. Pastor made his way to the front, the church was already filling, what could he do? Nothing! Nothing without causing a panic...he nodded at Maples who had taken her usual seat, though he could see her shining eyes. Would there be time to rush to her before the end? He would see her again! Already he could feel his eyes getting damp. He passed in front of the colossal form of the Princess hidden in shadow. He swallowed, "Your magesty..." with a polite bow that slender sharp spire dipping in return did nothing to usage the grip of terror on his heart. "Yet voice inside kept saying, All is well!" The choir began to filter in, they wouldn't see her till they took their seats. "Keep smiling." he said to each quietly." We may yet get out of this. Don't want to cause a panic..."he caught their hooves and hugged them."sing knowing you could see God's face today." Taking their seats quizzical looks turned to strange forced smiles from the elders when they saw the princess, made their way and calmed the younger, keeping the moral up (except for the silly young ones who had to have it explained, in harsh whisper, why the princess sitting there was bad. Some still didn't understand), so accustomed to the art of performance by being part of the choir. Scripture were well worn passages and commentary of the temple in Jerusalem and its construction, darting from the touchstone to the temple of Herod back to David and with the lesson of the capstone, in memory of the day the churches foundations were laid...practically the same every year, same nods and some yawns accompanied with nudged loving knee jabs. "Remember Jesus is now the temple and high priest his atonement enough to save. He is with God, now, dwelling with believer and all believers being temples themselves, houses of God's Holy Spirit." The organist who was well apart began the introductory."God of our fathers." by Dan Robers, followed by a nervious rendition of"He Hideth my soul" by Kirkpatrick organ singing along a little slow not really liking to follow. "Great is thy faithfulness" Rice, by the whole congregation. Announcements came, then there was singing...confused looks over every hymn. That deep note or reverberado heard throughout the church. The Organist scratched her head and did some manual tuning on the nobs, to no avail. Husbands looked to wives, wives looked to husbands, who normally sang off key, and families looked to children who were larking or didn't know how to read music. "Ohno."Though the choir director, "organist brought out her tambourine!" her eye twitched"It's no good when she brought her tambourine!"grumbling."she's impossible when she brings out her tambourine.I should have know when those songs were program listed." The choir director rolled her eyes, pastor made signs with his hooves for her to let it go. Go she did. She made music with that thing and could play songs no pony could match. "Must I die to the sound of primitive rattling bangles?" whined the director against her rival in her mind. For Celestia it was a show and she kept quiet through the two songs played. "And they'll know we are Christians by our love..." by FR. Peter Scholtes, a song Celestia and most of the guard were polite enough not to sing. The congregation sang in melody as the bangles rattled and she kepi time on the stretched canvas, followed by a great flourish of jingling. With simple hoof skill, with an old knowing smile, without magic, tambourine sounded to a drum. A beat with the bangles accenting. She led them in an ancient song passed down in her families called, "The Coloring Song." by Petra. Satisfied she ended with a great rattle and pop! Nope, the problem was the organ. She put tambourine away looking over to the choir director. Shame on her for feeling a little satisfaction irking her! The Organist sighed as the choir director glared trying to get some message across with her mind, which was impossible being she wasn't a unicorn and the organist wasn't into that kind stuff magic and rot circles sure her faith wouldn't allow it, circles no, absolutely not! To play a dozen cords on the organ, sure, using her mind and limbs at the same time in a graceful octopus ballet...mind reading? Definitely not! Organ must be out of tune, she yawned, find that weird note,notes, later. She drozely daydreamed of explored pipe rooms of tin, led and wood. Like those new books by AK Yearling. (she had written suggestions for a book she could write similar to Organist's dreams. Such dreams! She played gloriously for God with all her might for a dark Princess of Night and Wild Organ Carnivals,in her loneliness, laughed wept for joy and trying to out sing the immense pipes of the cosmos! Organist would wake and pray for her, this sad dark lonely princess...sitting on dust.) How glad she was, a unicorn, knowing how to do a proper tap test for abbesses and anomalies in the pipes! Organist certainly didn't see the princess! Now was the time for the sermon.Pastor Biscuit remembered, didn't have a sermon. "Tell us about...the darkness...in Massachusetts." said a voice ahead behind the curtain to the pastor in front of the whole congregation. The congregation murmured, this was something new. A new sermon delivery perhaps? Eh. Why not? He didn't have a sermon. "Another world: New England's Dark Day, May 19,1780(see notes 1) The Dark Day inspired terror, panic and puzzlement. Men prayed and women wept. Thousands left off work and took to taverns and churches for comfort. Children were sent home from school. Bewildered chickens went to their roosts, frightened cattle returned to their stalls, Night birds whistled, frogs peeped as they did at midnight. One anonymous poet wrote, 'Nineteenth of May, a gloomy day, when darkness veil’d the sky The sun’s decline may be a sign, some great event is nigh.' In a place called Connecticut, members of the Legislature, called the State Council, feared the Dark Day signified the Day of Judgment. Some members clamored to adjourn the session. Some said it was a judgment from God! Males wept, Mares wrung their hooves and people took solace in taverns, temples. An Abraham Davenport earned lasting fame for his response: "I am against adjournment. The day of judgment is either approaching, or it is not. If it is not, there is no cause for an adjournment; if it is, I choose to be found doing my duty. I wish therefore that candles may be brought." "Pastor, pastor!"cried a little filly from the congregation. Then had her mother shush her. Pastors instincts rushed out sure that he had beat Celestia, in speaking next. "Let the child speak."he said "Well,"she cleared her throat,"Me and my friends...I know the poem...you want us to recite?" "That sounds excellent! Yes, please." As the fillies and colts made their way to the front the congregation murdered, "A new way of presentation?"Well, the congregation was interested. "I learned this from my grandfather along with the The Deacon's Masterpiece, and taught it to my friends."note1.5 "A poem from five hundred years survives." Thought Celestia. "but after one hundred years my Judge's descendants couldn't even remember his name. Curious and curiouser. The Filly cleared her throat: "Abraham Davenport by John Greenleaf Whittier in 1873: a poem about the Dark Day in 1780"note 2 In the old days (a custom laid aside With breeches and cocked hats) the people sent Their wisest men to make the public laws. And so, from a brown homestead, where the Sound Drinks the small tribute of the Mianus, Waved over by the woods of Rippowams, And hallowed by pure lives and tranquil deaths, Stamford sent up to the councils of the State Wisdom and grace in Abraham Davenport. A little colt next forcefully took the recitation. 'Twas on a May-day of the far old year Seventeen hundred eighty, that there fell Over the bloom and sweet life of the Spring Over the fresh earth and the heaven of noon, A horror of great darkness, like the night In day of which the Norland sagas tell, The Twilight of the Gods. The low-hung sky Was black with ominous clouds, save where its rim Was fringed with a dull glow, like that which climbs The crater's sides from the red hell below. Birds ceased to sing, and all the barnyard fowls Roosted; the cattle at the pasture bars Lowed, and looked homeward; bats on leathern wings Flitted abroad; the sounds of labor died; Men prayed, and women wept; all ears grew sharp To hear the doom-blast of the trumpet shatter The black sky, that the dreadful face of Christ Might look from the rent clouds, not as He looked A loving guest at Bethany, but stern As Justice and inexorable Law. Another filly, her voice would crack at times as she spoke to be heard in the great hall. Meanwhile in the old State House, dim as ghosts, Sat the lawgivers of Connecticut, Trembling beneath their legislative robes. "It is the Lord's Great Day! Let us adjourn," Some said; and then, as if with one accord, All eyes were turned to Abraham Davenport. He rose, slow cleaving with his steady voice The intolerable hush. "This well may be The Day of Judgment which the world awaits; But be it so or not, I only know My present duty, and my Lord's command To occupy till He come. So at the post Where He hast set me in His providence, I choose, for one, to meet Him face to face, No faithless servant frightened from my task, But ready when the Lord of the harvest calls; And therefore, with all reverence, I would say, Let God do His work, we will see to ours. Bring in the candles." And they brought them in. It was the colt's turn. Then by the flaring lights the Speaker read, Albeit with husky voice and shaking hands, An act to amend an act to regulate The shad and alewive fisheries, Whereupon Wisely and well spake Abraham Davenport, Straight to the question, with no figures of speech Save the ten Arab signs, yet not without The shrewd dry humor natural to the man: His awe-struck colleagues listening all the while, Between the pauses of his argument, To hear the thunder of the wrath of God Break from the hollow trumpet of the cloud. Now the filly who had started it. And there he stands in memory to this day, Erect, self-poised, a rugged face, half seen Against the background of unnatural dark, A witness to the ages as they pass, That simple duty hath no place for fear. Scientific research into old trees in the Algonquin Highlands, Ontario, concluded the Dark Day resulted from a massive wildfire in Canadian forests. Scientists found charcoal and resin – ‘fire scars’ — in the growth rings of the trees. Pastor spoke,"Around midnight, a light breeze sprang up, blowing away the clouds and vapors, wrote Dow. Moonlight illumined the earth. The next day, the sun came out as usual." " What did you do that day of darkness when the sun didn't rise last week?"Asked the voice behind the curtain. He replied, "It was Sunday. We stayed at our posts sang, sermon and said our prayers as we always did. Then upon the next hours and the sun did not rise we sent our unicorn brothers to help others with work and chores, to see..." "And still you prayed?" "Yes." said the pastor.He swallowed. "So you just got...more candles then?For? Best for God to find you at your post...?" "I stayed at my post!" cried a mare. Biscuit was quick,"Do you have a witness?" asked the pastor. "Yes!" said a stallion in a deep voice. "I witnessed her tail while cleaning the gutters by moonlight...I mean what she says is true I couldn't see her cute..It was just so dark, had a glow crystal behind my ear, she was speaking below me and I heard the roaring!" "...and I'm a witness to him through a window!"said another mare. "Let us begin then..." said the pastor. "Well, truthfully...I went to market and set up my flowers...it was the festival, and I thought I could maybe earn a little, just that one day of Sunday, add to my tithe for the collection plate. It was still dark. I fell asleep. As scripture says, I didn't do right. I fell asleep: as the disciples in the garden, as the virgins waiting for the bridegroom...as a worker needed for harvest. When I woke it was still dark. I thought, 'Good I didn't sleep that long! Bedautiful stars! If only I had studied navigation in school I could tell what time it is.' 'Thou think the stars lovely do you? Then you shall see them always!' a tall dark mare stood over me, no it wasn't the wind I had heard it was her voice! She had woken me up, I remember my...my ears were a little ringing. I suspected that annoyed the mare the more. I offered her flowers, it seem to placate her just a little as if the roses stirred old memories. Charmed she was, she said they were beautiful with the dew sparkling on each dark leaf and soft petal. I told her they were most fragrant at midnight. She roared at me! Upturned my tables! Then in a voice of ice she said,'I will be uld through nightmares! Mending you would be left a withering heap!' Oh what she said to me! I can't repeat. Saying then the rider could have what was left! As far as I was concerned I was dealing with a devil straight from hell! I didn't know what to think, it was all so strange! But God gave me strength! I walk straight up to her and put my chest to her horn. Foolish I know. I said," Be not afraid of one who crumples the mind and body but be afraid of the one who can unmake you body and soul! To live is Christ to die...gain!" The vengeful spirit gaped at me, turned to smoke and fled just as it says,'Submit to the Lord! Resist the devil and the devil will flee.' The stallion spoke next."Yes."the stallion said rubbing one of his ears. "It poured up the spout like a torrent, rushing up, cackling as it fled away! The smoke fled past me I saw it rush toward the Everfree!" Mare," I saw the smoke. It gushed out! Dirt and water everywhere!" "Yes..." said the stallion rubbing one of his ears. "The dirt was everywhere!" said the mare."It covered him from head to hoof, I thaought I heard it cackled, over his head from my window!' Oh! Such faze for a Sud lovin fait!' It was away." "Nightmare would be amused to soil the completion of a hardworking earth pony." Thought Celestia. "I'm still cleaning from last week. I came down to the street from the roof, helped Ash Berry clean up." "I'm so glad my friends came to me, Violets Sharps, we went home and prayed for the rest of that dark day, then the sun came out." Pastor though of bright Jewel praying in the cluttered office full of wadded paper. "'When two or more are gathered in my name I am there also.' How fortunate sometimes God let's us be intercessors in his stead. To show mercy and comfort to our brothers and sisters." No more interruptions. Service continued as usual. "Let us pray for understanding." "Now to prayers...a prayer for the princess a prayer for any sister, brother or heir.." "Stop!"roared the voice, the princess stepped from behind in a flourish from the curtain so all the congregation could see her. They gasped!