London Central Secondary School - Golden Glimpses Yearbook (London, Ontario Canada)

Page 70 text:

v. v DIVINE JUSTICE Patrick von Aderkas The petals of the rose gentian floated down to the earth. So also must life when it is prematurely plucked , concluded the curate. He gazed in the direction of the village. Fortune had smiled most generously on him when the appointment to St. Ignatius was made. Indeed, what an idyllic village; nestled in the arms of the mountains, slumbering peacefully through the stormy seventh century. Trouble- free sighed the priest. He also served as judge, but in this passive social setting he spent most of the day communing with nature, for there was no demand for his services. On one such day, as he walked slowly up into the high pastures and pondered on the order of nature, a messenger stumbled through the grasses and fell before the curate. From a distance, he felt he heard mourning, and with the cry of murder from the running youth, the harmony of the surrounding was shatter- ed. The old priest, helped along by the boy, made his way into the hamlet, where a large crowd had gathered in front of the church. He learned that Figrelo, the wealthy village merchant, had been robbed and murdered on his way to market, only five hours earlier. They hastened to add that his two youthful lodgers. Franz and Martin, had not been seen since the foul deeds. The priest, realizing that there could be no crime without a criminal, soon began searching for the two. He searched in their homes but found nothing. Finally, late in the night he returned to the dead merchant ' s house and there he found the two, playing some variation of a memory game. Martin and Franz denied any knowledge of the murder, and claimed to have been at Foret, the neighbouring village. The shrewd priest, sensing this to be an untruthful story, had them both locked up in the deepest cells of the dungeon. The task of divising a conviction was the single greatest obstacle. Feeling just at heart, the curate felt that a just means of punishment must be devised. After many hours on end of pondering, re-examin- ing and doubly reconsidering, the judge could not originate any applicable wisdom of Solomon. In fact, he became extremely sceptical of his own capabilities as judge. He was incapable, so, he would leave it up to the Greatest of the Greatest Judges, GOD. How simple, and obvious, but yet so profound. N ow he need only wait for a sign. That night a dream came to him and throughout its passage a Moral Man indicated to his friend that the good way to judge a man was to have him re-enact his most recent dream. When he woke, struck by the logical soundness of this belief, the curate brought Franz out of the prison, and asked him of his dream. My dream , replied Franz was quite unusual. Why do you ask? Oh, I am very curious. replied the priest. I had been bound by these men, who laid me on the road on which the farmers travel each week to

Page 69 text:

SOUTH OF MARCH I ' ve been thinking about where I ' d like to go when I get the time I ' ve been thinking about where I ' d like to go when I get a dime Been thinking about a fantasy, realized in dreams Dreaming about the South of March But there is no reality in dreams Been sitting here looking out waiting for the sun to rise Been sitting here waiting for this sunshine in my eyes Been waiting for the final words words that say I ' m free Free to go to the South of March But there is no reality in words. Now I suppose the cold just before the dawn is gone And the swallows have all flown back back where they belong And when everything that ' s out of place is back where it should be Then I suppose I ' ll be in the South of March And I believe there is reality in peace Peace and love live in the South of March Doug Agnew

Page 71 text:

the market. But, no carts came near me, and so I was not run over. Fine, answered the curate, gleefully rubbing his hands, we will re-enact that dream tomorrow, and if you are not run over, then you will be released. Having thus convinced himself of his righteous interpretation of God ' s Will, the priest went, and slept soundly until the next day. The guards bound up the prisoner, laid him on the road (since it was a market day) and waited for the first farmer. But all day the wagons did not come and so Franz was freed. The curate, curious to know the cause, sent two of his guards to go up the road and find the farmers. Soon they returned and brought news of an avalanche which had closed off the road the night before. Affirmed of the Lord ' s Just Inter- vention, the priest proceeded to question the second prisoner about his dream. Martin, who was ignorant of his brother ' s freedom, replied, I dreamt that 1 was in the courtyard of the city hall and that I wanted to place my hand in the mouth of the stone lion. As I did so, I was bitten. Good , replied the proud priest Today we will have you repeat your dream. So down to the city hall marched the curate and Martin, followed by a large crowd of people. They had heard of Franz ' release, due to the ludicrous test and now were mocking the judge for his injustice. Even Martin was laughing, but, as he put his hand into the mouth of the stone lion, he was stung by a scorpion. The crowd, awed by the fulfillment of the dream, agreed with the priest that Martin should be without aid. In the next few hours Martin died in agony. Having convinced himself that his wisdom was now equal to that of Socrates, the curate returned to meditating on the purity of man. However, twenty years later, in a faraway country, a man overcome with guilt, confessed to the killing of Figrelo. It would not have mattered if the curate had found out; for he would have said that the death was only justification for another deed, of which he knew nothing; for it was known only to God.