Pilgrims of Promise Read Online Free PDF Page B

Zurich, and St. Gall. The crusaders offered the names of villages and hamlets from Swabia and Franconia, the valleys of the Alps and the flat-lands of Saxony.
    A small girl stood. Heinrich thought her to be no more than six or seven. She walked to Pieter and tugged on his sleeve. He bent low to hear her whisper sadly, “I’m afraid to go home.”
    Before Pieter could answer, another child cried from the edge of the campfire, “I cannot go home.”
    “Why not, boy?”
    “I’ll be beaten, now more’n ever. I’ve failed.”
    Pieter’s face tightened as a chorus of others agreed. “Tell me how you’ve failed.”
    Answers, heretofore repressed, now came quickly. They erupted from aching hearts that had been locked by shame and confusion. “We did not reach the Holy Land, and so we failed God”; “My faith failed me … methinks God must hate me now”; “I was afraid”; “I stole things”; “I cursed Mother Mary” … On and on they listed their failings. Their poor little hearts emptied themselves of guilt like the spewing of poison from the mouth of a serpent.
    Heinrich listened silently and understood. He saw his own painful emotions reflected in the contorted, woeful faces of these children and wished they all might be set free. He looked toward the wise old man and waited for his answer.
    At last a weeping Pieter turned to Heinrich and said quietly, “Guilt sprouts where shame is planted.”
    He wiped his eyes and faced his children. “Oh, my blessed lambs. Fear not, you have not failed. You have walked with angels; you have trod on holy ground. Faith is not proven by things attained, but by walking in love.
    “Oh, my children, my tender hearts, I see love abounding all around me! Look at you, each one. There.” He pointed. “One holds another’s hand. And there. There one wipes another’s tear. You, little ones, have borne one another’s burdens. You have been sisters and brothers, protectors and comforters to those who have shared your journey.
    “Have you failed? No, most certainly not! Have you suffered? Indeed, and much. But know this: suffering is the path to faith and the doorway to compassion. Your suffering has made your faith stronger because you’ve learned to depend on love; it has softened your hearts toward one another because you’ve learned to feel pain. Sons and daughters of God, be proud of who you have become!”
    The children sat spellbound, as did Heinrich. Shivers tingled his spine, and he suddenly wanted to cry out for joy. Pieter had given him hope again—hope to believe.
    Lying on his pallet near the fire, Wil heard the message too. His heart was touched in deep places, and a lump filled his throat. Frieda took his hand and smiled.
    Pieter leaned on his staff wearily. His face was yellowed in the firelight and etched deeply by flickering shadows. Finally he nodded. “So, my precious ones, what do we do?”
    The circle remained quiet, and the old man prayed silently. It was not long before it became clear to him that he, Heinrich, and Wil had been called to redeem the journey of suffering that all had endured; it would be their sacred duty to shepherd these lost lambs to a place of safekeeping. He beckoned the baker to his side and spoke to him quietly for a few moments. Heinrich nodded and clasped Pieter’s hand. Then the pair faced the young crusaders once more.
    “Listen, children, listen well,” cried Pieter. “We shall pray for God’s grace to protect you and guide you, to teach you, and to feed you in body and spirit. In the end, we may not take you home, but it is our humble prayer that we shall deliver you to the place where you belong.”
    The children were silent and suddenly content. A voice cried out, “God bless you, Father!” Soon the whole of them crowded around their guardians and rejoiced. Hope was sprouting where trust had been planted.

     
    Later the same night, Pieter wandered between the two separate camps that were assembled by the sea.