As the girl’s song faded into silence, Miller lit his lantern.

Night was falling fast and the unchanging darkness of the cave mocked his small light. He moved closer to the entrance, heart thundering. It took all his courage and determination, with breath held and legs trembling, to stoop and enter the cave.

 

A Parable

As the girl’s song faded into silence, Miller lit his lantern.

Night was falling fast and the unchanging darkness of the cave mocked his small light. He moved closer to the entrance, heart thundering. It took all his courage and determination, with breath held and legs trembling, to stoop and enter the cave.

As he went deeper, the light revealed uglier and more sinister caverns and twisted passageways. The girl began to sing again, her weak voice echoing from the depths, and Miller followed the sound.

 I’m Goldie now

 And I behave

But I hate this life

I hate the cave

Dancing for any whom

Tenebris brings

Dancing the tunes

His shrill flute sings…

One day when Tenebris gave Goldie a heavy jeweled necklace, she hesitated to put it on.

“What’s the matter?” he asked with a shade of impatience. “You must wear that when you dance.”

She swallowed hard. “Could I take a rest from dancing, just for a little while? I’m so tired.”

“My friends are expecting you, Goldie.”

His tone was turning dangerous, but she ventured further. “Why can I never leave, but you and your friends come and go?”

He slapped her face. “Quiet!” Heaving with rage, he struck her a blow for every word he spat. “Idiot! Ungrateful! Worthless!”

Then, as she cowered, weeping with fear, he embraced her and patted her head.

“My poor little dancer,” he murmured. “I’m afraid you bring out the beast in me.”

Goldie sniffled. “Please…I want to see my family.”

“But they don’t want to see you. You’re a cave dancer through and through. You’re covered with grime, and you smell like the cave. Now, don’t cry. It’s only because I love you, and I need you so much, that I turn a bit mad now and then. I’ll try to do better. Be a good girl and forget about it.”

But finally, the time came when Goldie decided she had had enough. Her love for Tenebris had changed, twisted and beaten, and it was no longer enough to keep her in the cave.

Though Goldie ran her hands all along the cavern walls, she couldn’t find the passageways that Tenebris used. There was only one path she knew of.

When Tenebris left for a while, Goldie crept back to the collapsed tunnel. She went to the pile of stone and began prying at the rocks. Her nails were chipped, her fingers bled, and her muscles ached.

Suddenly, she was yanked away from the pile of stone.

“Naughty girl,” hissed Tenebris, shoving her against the cold wall.

“I want out,” she whimpered.

His hand closed around her throat. “There’s no world for you out there anymore. And no family. Your poor old mother caught an illness and died a while ago.”

She gasped and sagged in his grip, dizzy and sick. “My brother and sister…” Goldie moaned. “Who’ll take care of them?”

“They’re in an orphanage now. As long as you’re a good girl and keep dancing, I’ll go and take them some sweets and toys sometimes.”

“And what if I escape?” she choked.

Tenebris growled and knocked her head against the wall. “If you try again, my lovely, then your body will end up in one of these crevices, and I’ll have to bring your pretty little sister down here to take your place.”

He released her throat, and she slid down and sprawled on the cave floor, sobbing.

…I am Goldie, and there’s no way out.

 

Miller arrived at the mass of collapsed rock just as the girl’s song ended. The light of his lantern flashed over the massive boulders and mounds of small stones that blocked the way. He was overwhelmed. One man would never be able to move it all.

“God, Lord of Light, what can I do?” he groaned.

Then the still, small voice spoke to him again. “There are many parts in one body, and all are needed.”

Understanding dawned on him. Miller turned and hurried back up from the cave. He ran through the forest and into the sleeping town. The light of his lantern shone through the windows of the houses as he dashed down the street crying, “Wake up! Wake up! There’s a girl buried underground!”

At first, he got sharp words from people who were annoyed at being stirred from their beds. They slammed their shutters and yanked their curtains closed.

“Who cares about a foolish cave dancer?” they grumbled.

But as Miller stood at the crossroads, breathlessly describing the things he had heard and seen in the cave, a crowd began to gather. The women gasped in dismay, and the men gave dark mutters.

Miller’s wife, wrapped in a shawl, slipped through the crowd and drew close to him. Tears streamed from her eyes. “What can we do?” she whispered.

Miller hugged her. “Through God—all things.” He looked up at the crowd. “Everyone, bring your tools!”

The men began gathering digging implements. Some hefted picks and hammers onto their shoulders, while a team loaded a large drill onto a wagon. Another group of men strapped on armor and weapons. “You take the main passage,” they told Miller, eyes fierce, “and we’ll search for Tenebris’s secret ways. We’ll keep hunting until we get him.”

The women gathered cooking supplies to keep the rescuers well-fed. They also brought things they wanted to give the trapped girl, like blankets and clean clothes.

Miller felt a tug on his sleeve, and looked down to see his daughter gazing up at him with solemn eyes.

“Papa, I want to help too.”

Hot tears spilled down his face. He lifted her into his arms and held her close. “Now that you know about men like Tenebris, you need to be careful and keep your eyes open. Warn all your friends, so none of you can be trapped.”

A group of musicians, artists, and writers approached Miller. They ruefully held up things like guitars and brushes and pens, saying, “Our tools aren’t good for much. We can’t use them to dig anyone out, and they can’t make anyone warm or fed.”

Miller smiled. “You’ve got willing hearts—come along! You can use your tools to spread this story, and encourage all of us.”

Just as the people were ready to set out, Miller’s wife came up to him again, and grasped his hand. “I’m wondering,” she said softly, “when you free the girl…where will she go?”

Miller looked into her gentle face. “There’s room in our house.”

A warm light came to her eyes. “I’ll stay and prepare a place for her.” She kissed his cheek. “Be brave.”

So the group of people walked into the black forest. When they came to the cave entrance, many people hesitated, staring at the dark mouth. They were solemn as they began to enter the cave and wound through the shadowy corridors. Finally, the collapsed pile loomed before them. “God,” Miller prayed, “please give us strength.”

Picks rang out chipping blows and hammers pounded. Shovels plunged into the mounds of gravel. The drill ground away at large boulders until they cracked and crumbled. Men’s muscles strained, sweat glistened in the lantern light, and they grunted as they were bruised and cut by stones.

Back at the cave entrance, the women and children had formed a makeshift camp with tent shelters, tables, and a row of cooking pots that sent up savory aromas. And constantly, as often as they turned to listen to the noises echoing up from the cave, they spoke to God.

At last, triumphant shouts rang out from the depths. They had broken through.

Deep in the cave, Miller and the other men charged through the breach, lanterns aloft.

On the other side, they saw a tall man fleeing into deeper caverns, gripping a pale young girl by the arm. When he saw how many of them there were, he released her and disappeared into the black depths.

The girl stared at the rescuers, eyes blinking painfully in the invading light. Then she slumped over in a faint.

Miller lifted the limp figure into his arms—as light as a sparrow, he thought—and carried her toward the cave entrance.

As he stepped out of the cave, the girl began to stir, and the women were waiting to gather her in, wrap her in blankets, and give her some soup. Celebration spread among the rescuers. They wiped the grime from their faces and enjoyed the early breakfast the women had prepared. The musicians played joyful songs, and people danced as the sky turned rosy with dawn’s approach.

Miller looked around and saw that one person was not joining in the festivities. The pale girl sat huddled on the ground, a blanket pulled tight around her shoulders, eyes averted. Miller came and knelt down facing her.

In a whisper, she began to sing again.

The light is bright

The music is sweet

But I don’t dare dance

On these filthy feet…

The girl gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t think I belong out here,” she told Miller. She nodded toward the cave entrance. “That place is all I’m good for.”

“No,” he said, and his voice was kind. “You’re meant to be in the light. We have a room for you, and you’ll be loved.”

She kept her tearful eyes low. “But I know I’m not worth loving. I’m just Goldie, a cave dancer.”           

Miller bent down until he was able to meet her eyes, and slowly he lifted his gaze, drawing hers along, to the brightening sky. “Don’t believe those lies,” he said. “The truth is that your name is Bella. Do you know what that name means?”

She shook her head. No one had ever told her.

“Beautiful. Your name is Beautiful, and God, the Lord of Light, loves you. He calls you to a pure and wonderful dance with Him.”

She fingered the soft blanket that covered her. The sun rose over the trees in golden brilliance, and the morning light warmed her face. And then she smiled.

…My name is Bella, and I would like to learn this new song.

 

In another town, there appears another man, with hungry eyes, and a set of pipes in hand. He prowls the streets, searching for a girl he can teach to dance to his tune.

Someday, you may pass by a cave in the forest and hear her cry.

So what will you do?