Free Grace

I wander in aimlessly. Honestly, I don't even belong here. This isn't a place for people like me. Palaces usually don't accept beggars very kindly. Something about this place is different, though. I tremble knowing I don't deserve to be here, but long to stay nonetheless.

I lean my head all the way back to stare at the ceiling in the foyer. The gold engravings high above me cause my mouth to hang open in awe. Delicate golden angels with large wings seem to go on forever. They are grouped together, singing and laughing with each other. As I continue staring at the ceiling, the angels appear more and more lifelike. I still recall hearing a beautiful melody I have not heard before, and have never heard since.

I look down and see my rags, the ones that have been weighing me down for so long. To you, they don't appear heavy because of the rips and holes in them, but they hold me back. They kept me away from this place.

My bare feet tracked mud onto the clean, white marble floor, and my dirty hair is steadily dripping rainwater; creating a puddle. I glance outside, and see the rain pouring down. The thunder cracks, and I gasp; bringing my hands to my mouth.

My hands. I pull them away from my face to look at them. Despite the rain, they (like my clothes) remain caked in black soot.

I shiver again. What would the King of this palace do to me? I was a nuisance in His home.

Suddenly, I hear heavy wooden doors open to my left. I look to see a broad, handsome man walking towards me. I avert my eyes. What am I doing here? I don't belong here...


"Welcome." His reassuring voice echoes to the depths of my soul. I lift my eyes to find the Prince standing in front of me, smiling; His hand outstretched for mine. I cautiously raise my dirty, blackened hand and lay it in His. We begin to walk, but I soon collapse. I didn't realize how exhausted I was. In one swift movement, He picks me up and carries me in His arms. I rest my head on His shoulder and drift into sleep and complete assurance.