by God's Little Boy
© MakeshiftDarkroom.com 2020
Posted 11/24/20

There was a certain free and just man who was apprehended by the magistrate and shut up tightly in a prison cell for an undisclosed sentence of time. There were no formal charges made, and yet sentence was given. A sheriff and deputy were assigned as prison guards and were set in place by the magistrate to keep the prisoner on a lean ration of bread and water daily.

Each day, at the noon hour, a full spread of food was brought in and set before the sheriff and deputy. The food was placed on a table near the prisoner's cell and in plain sight. Things like fried chicken, fresh warm biscuits and gravy, green bean casserole, potato salad, and apple pie were often on the menu and abundantly supplied by the magistrate. The sheriff and deputy fared sumptuously in the presence of the prisoner. The prisoner seeing and smelling the good food begged the sheriff for a plate but seldom received a morsel and could never eat freely. The prisoner would often stretch his arm through the bars as far as he could hoping to reach a piece of food on the table, but it was always just beyond his reach. Oftentimes, others (who were not captive) came into the prison house to eat with the sheriff. They ate freely of the good food and had plenty. Besides all of this, there was a window in the prison cell so that the prisoner could look outside to see everything in the world of plenty.

The prisoner often sent word to the magistrate desperately pleading that he might be released from this prison and his affliction, but there was no response from the magistrate, and neither did his sentence change. All who came through the prison house or passed by on the outside were set against him by word of the magistrate so that the prisoner could find no advocate. The magistrate's sentence prevailed so that there was none to deliver. None sought to release him from prison, but were instead content that he should remain captive. To add insult to injury, the prisoner was chided without shame by the sons of plenty and told that he should be satisfied with what things and food the magistrate had provided. Troubled by leanness and the determined iron will of the magistrate, the prisoner endured the coldness of his captors daily as the many years that passed became a life sentence.

When shall the prisoner's captivity be turned? Is there yet hope for today? When shall his advocate come to move on his behalf and open the iron bars? And what shall be done for the prisoner, as a recompense, in the day of his deliverance?

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