Showing posts with label Ruth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ruth. Show all posts

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Mijita Ru, a love story - Part I

Lots of the stories banging around in my head originated from somewhere in the Bible... either from taking a phrase literally or feeling a sudden connection with one of the characters mentioned. Ruth came alive for me in the past few months. I'm not rewriting her story (Ruth 1:1-18) as much as throwing myself into it and bringing raw emotions with me.


I'm reading the Immortal Instruments series and it's so cool how Cassandra Clare uses Ruth's message to Naomi, adapting it to her story. I wrote this first bit before I'd read of Clare's Nephilim... and I didn't use it in my wedding. Lol. But it is so beautiful:
"Entreat me not to leave you, or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there will I be buried. The LORD do so to me, and more also, if anything but death parts you and me."
Characters:


   Mijita is pronounced Mee-hee-ta, meaning "my little daughter". 
   Mater - Mah-tehr, "mother" incl. "mother-in-law", responsible overseeing female
   Pater - Pah-tehr, "father" or "father-in-law" responsible overseeing male
   Perla -  Majita's beautiful sister-in-law
   Achilioin - Orpah's deceased husband
   Mahlon - Ru's deceased husband

1. Mijita Ru

I woke to the sound of snuffling, Mater was crying again. My own eyes felt heavy and resisted opening. I rubbed at them, so puffy it was a wonder they opened at all. The hollow emptiness in my stomach hurt worse. Even my arms felt drained of the energy to rise off my cot and go to Mater.

“She wants to be alone, Mijita.” My sister in law stumbled back into her cot, flopping onto her back. “She sent me away.”

“I’m sorry. This sorrow should be yours and we should be comforting you.”

Perla sighed.

The funeral for her husband had lasted all week. A widow of three years, myself, I felt her pain freshly. Our father, Pater, had sunk into the ground last year with something that slowly ate his health away. The passing of Achilion last week was my sister, Perla’s, heartbreak, certainly, but all three of us women grieved for our former lives. Women could not own land. We were effectively homeless.

These thoughts churned ‘round and ‘round in my head like a never-ending circle. It always came back to the same question, What do we do now?

Perla echoed my thoughts whispering, “What do we do now?”