The Bag

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Sunrise.

She blinked.  Another day.  She winced as she slowly sat up.  Her body hurt from sleeping on hard places.  Still a young woman, she was starting to feel old.  She glanced around her to see if anyone was watching then pulled two rolls out of her coat pocket and ate them in silence.  The sounds of hunger ceased.  The first rays of light reached her cheeks and feeling their faraway warmth, she shivered.  Standing up, she hoisted the Bag over her shoulder and shuffled out of the alley.

The streets were coming to life.  Windows opened, men and women selling their wares stood in doorways, surveying the potential traffic.  Some saw her pass by, struggling under the weight, and shook their heads thinking, “What a waste of a girl.  She should find work.”  Some observed her sadness and thought, “I wonder what happened to her,” then shook the rug against the steps and went back inside.  Others studied her face, reminded of a long, lost daughter, a niece, a granddaughter, a friend’s daughter… a young woman they once knew.

She stopped at the park and set the Bag down.  Relief.  As she stretched her neck, aching and tight, a Child caught her eye.  From across the park she could hear giggles and cries of delight as the Child ran.  The Girl felt herself giggling too, longing to feel as free as the Child.  Longing to run… without the weight.  The Child’s mother stood to leave, playtime was over, and the Child began to look around desperately.  “What is she looking for,” wondered the Girl.  Then she found it.  The Child crouched down, and as she stood, she hoisted a Bag onto her small shoulders.  Off she went with mother.

And it was then that the Girl knew... she had to leave.

Lifting the Bag onto her shoulders, she began to trudge forward.  Past the park, past the storefronts, past the houses on the edge of town.  She bent her back and walked.  The sun was fully risen and shined on her face as she made her way past the outskirts of the city.  The light was warm, but she was cold.  If I can just get a little closer to the sun, she thought…

She trekked for hours.  The Bag slung over her shoulder grew heavier and heavier. 

She thought about her life as she traveled.  About the city where she used to find a bench, set the Bag down, and rest.  There were people to watch, things to distract her, and constant movement.  Everyone was moving!  Going from place to place, getting to a place and planning on the next place to go.  Getting there and planning how to get back to the place they’d left.  Going and planning and getting and then going and planning and getting.  It kept her mind busy.  It kept the Bag light, because as soon as she got where she was going, she’d set it down, forget about it for a while, hoist it up, go where she had planned to go, set it down, forget about it, hoist it up…. This was how she was able to manage it.  In the busy-ness, she never acknowledged how heavy the Bag really was.

But alone on the road, she felt the weight.

On she journeyed until she came to an open meadow.  The sun was high in the sky by now and shined brightly on the greenest grass she’d ever seen.  A floor of green velvet against a sky of translucent blue. 

She turned into it.

The grass felt soft beneath the soles of her worn shoes.   She kicked them off and for the first time since her Childhood, she felt the cool, smooth grass beneath her feet.  Something in the distance caught her eye - a spot of dark color against the green carpet before her.  She walked toward it.  As she grew closer, she thought she could make out a chair with someone seated on it.  Closer and closer… it was a Man.  Seated on a simple, regal wooden armchair.  He seemed to be admiring the beauty of the day in peaceful silence when he turned to her.

What are you carrying?

My Bag.

It looks heavy.

It is, she said, shifting the weight from one shoulder to the other.

Why don’t you set it down?

I do sometimes.  Only to take it back up again.

What’s inside?

No one had ever asked her that question.

Everything I have.  My dreams, hopes, memories, my Childhood.

Why is it so heavy then?

She paused.  

I carry all of my pain in it too. This Bag holds all of my tears.

Silence descended as a gentle breeze swept over the field.

Can I carry it for you? asked the Man.

It’s heavy, said the Girl.

It’s too heavy for you, Child.  Not for me.  Why don’t you leave it here with me?

Are you sure you want it? she asked.

With that question, she looked into his eyes.  And when she did, she felt the warmth of the sun.

I want it, said the Man.

She placed the Bag at his feet and stood up to look at him, afraid he might change his mind.  He smiled at her.   

There was only one thing left to do in such a meadow, on such a day...  

Run.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free."  Galatians 5:1