Day 6

Monday, March 10th

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” 

(Matthew 11:28-30 NIV)

The Invitation

Behind a small cabin in a clearing in the woods, the sun is rising. As darkness gives way, a jagged ridge of mountains appears, like a charcoal sketch against the sky. Inside the cabin, a man is bent over a coffee grinder carefully turning the handle. He lays a loaf of bread, still warm from the oven, on a cutting board and slices it, thick and even. He pauses and looks up. “Cool in here” he says, putting down the knife and moving across the room to the wood stove. Patiently, he places crumpled paper in the stove, builds a frame of kindling over it, and carefully chooses a few small logs from his neat pile beside the stove. He hums as he lights the match to the paper, watches the small orange flames appear, catch the kindling, and grow. Once the small logs have caught, he places a larger log on the burning pile careful not to smother the growing flame. The heavy cast iron door squeaks as the man closes it, and he quickly opens the flue. “Don’t want to smoke the place out before my friend comes!” he says as he straightens up and brushes off his hands. 

Making his way back to the cutting board and the bread, he runs his hand over the long-haired calico, asleep on the back of one of the armchairs pulled close to the fire. The cat opens one eye at the man’s touch, stretches its legs, and closes it again as it curls its paw over its face.

Placing the sliced bread on a tray with butter and a small pot of honey, the man steps back from the counter, tilts his head and surveys the room. “We will eat there” he decides and drags a small table between the two chairs, into the circle of warmth from the growing fire. “My friend will be cold from his journey.” He steps back and looks at the soft chairs, inhales the scent of the spruce wood as it burns and claps his hands in delight, thinking of his weary friend sinking into the chair with a sigh, lifting a mug of fresh coffee. Cutlery clatters against the clean plate as he lays the tray on the small table. All is still as the burning wood sizzles and pops. 

“Let’s go watch for my friend,” he says to the sleeping cat.

At the sound of the front door opening, the cat jumps down from the back of the chair and slips between the man’s legs onto the cabin’s front porch. The sun is making its way over the cabin roof and a ray catches the dew on a spider web spanning a corner of the porch railing. “You’ve been hard at work all night,” the man says to the spider perched on a glistening strand of web. “A masterpiece!” His exclamation startles the birds in the blackberry bushes that surround the clearing and he smiles as they twist and rise as one into the brightening dawn. 

He takes the steps from the porch lightly and enters the clearing. A breeze touches his face and he looks up into the cottonwood trees, as the wind rustles through the bright green leaves, still sticky in their new-ness. Closing his eyes, he breathes in deeply. “No smell in heaven or earth like a cottonwood leaf unfolding in the spring,” he says to the cat sitting on the porch licking its paw. He walks across the damp grass to the edge of the clearing and squints his eyes, looking down the well-worn path as far as he can see for his friend.

******

The fire is embers now as the snow-tipped mountains glow pink in the reflected sunset. The man is in his armchair, the washing up done from his evening meal. As he reaches for the book on the table beside him, his gaze falls on the coffee now cold in the mug, and the plate still clean on the tray. Rising, he picks up the now-stale coffee, the pine floorboards creaking as he brings it into the kitchen. Returning for the unused plate, he hesitates. Quietly he says, “I’ll leave this here. For my friend, tomorrow,” and sinks back into his chair. The cat on the empty chair-back lifts its head and watches the man. Jumping down from the chair, it arches its back in a stretch, its eyes still on the seated man. The cat walks in front of the fire, leaps up and curls into the man’s lap. It begins to purr as the man strokes its ears and stares into the dying fire.