Can You Hear?

 

The cobblestones were cold beneath her bare feet.

"Why did we have to take our shoes off?" She asked her faithful friend.

He looked her square in the eye and blabbered, "We are fools, remember!"

Not a question, a command to remember.

"Ok, we are fools," she shrugged.

"This way," he motioned excitedly, dragging his chains with vigor and delight. 

She rolled her eyes in the most American way and off they went into Red Square.

He stopped at a group of aghast pedestrians and shouted a prayer in their general direction. 

"Repent," he bellowed, then whispered the warning, "It is almost time!"

Again, with the eye roll. She was called to pray quietly, though she was barefoot. That was something.

The startled crowd did not repent, not openly, though she noticed one bow his head and say something quietly, like her. That was something.

Off they went, Basil screaming at the top of his lungs that Jesus was coming, and her silently think-screaming, "The Lord bless you and keep you."

The Holy Fools ran through all the world calling the sane and sensible to lay down their arms and look up. Rejoicing, crying, screaming like wildmen-- that was Basil, and whispering, in hushed tones, "The Lord bless you. The Lord keep you," that was her.

In all the world the masses heard him.

And the Lord heard her. He blessed them and kept them.