Faith Healer

Word count: 1344


Connie wrung out the sheets one last time and began pinning them up in front of the fireplace to dry. It was Scottish tradition that unmarried young ladies hang wet sheets in front of the fire on Halloween night in order to have a dream of their future husband, and she figured she'd take that opportunity to wash the linens.

Her little black cat, Shadow, snuggled in a woolen plaid blanket on a bench by the mantle. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and jars of carefully-preserved herbs and spices. The house was warm and dry, but outside the wind howled in an early snowstorm. It was setting up to be another long and lonely winter.

There was so much Connie needed to know about her potential mate. Would he be handsome? What if he didn't believe in the godly arts of herbalism and healing? She had been accused of being a witch all too often.

"I hope I'll be able to fall asleep tonight," she said to the cat as she hung up the last sheet. Shadow purred and blinked his golden eyes full of uncanny wisdom. A spider dangled on a nearly-invisible string hanging off of the mantle. Connie saw it and knew it was probably the spirit of her late Grandma Eleanor. It was comforting to know she was present.

When everything was ready and the fire was banked over safely for the night, Connie mounted the stairs to her bedroom, holding a candle and a final cup of herbal tea with honey, Shadow resting warmly across her shoulders.

She said her prayers and fell asleep quickly and soundly. At some point in the night, her vision was granted; in her dreams Grandma Eleanor appeared with a gentle smile.

"My dear Connie, I've found the perfect man for you," she whispered. Connie saw herself in the main room, sitting down to breakfast. A knock came suddenly at the door, and she opened it to let in a blast of snow and a tall man. When he shook the snow off and stood in front of the fire, she saw his sad hazel eyes, curly light brown hair and friendly smile.

He began to speak, but the vision faded and changed to something else. Now Connie saw a young girl lying in a bed, with Shadow curled up against the top of her head on the pillow. It was something her cat did when someone was sick.

"Grandma, what means this?"

Eleanor only smiled and reached out as if to hug her granddaughter. But the dream faded into the blackness of sleep, and Connie woke up the next morning when Shadow snuggled on her chest, sending purring vibrations through her body.

It was still snowing hard, and she felt as though her dream would be coming true very quickly. Sure enough, as she was eating her oatmeal, there came an urgent knock at her door. Opening it let in an icy draft and the man, who stood before the fire shaking off snow.

"I apologize for bursting in on you, Miss," he said with an awkward, pained wrinkle in his brow, yet a gentle smile on his face. "I desperately need your help."

Connie bid him sit down and set out another bowl of oatmeal and cup of tea for him.

"My name is Ryan. My six-year-old daughter Talitha is deathly ill, and no one knows what it is or how to cure her. My wife died on Halloween last year of a similar illness, and I fear it will take my poor child next."

He paused, struggling to hold in his feelings. Shadow climbed into his lap and sat there firmly as if trying to provide some comfort. Ryan petted the cat, breathed deeply and continued,

"An elderly lady named Eleanor told me to come and get you, that you would know what to do." He looked across the table at Connie with a faint hope in his eyes. She blinked back sympathetic tears.

"May I ask how is it your wife died on Halloween?" She suspected some dark force was at work.

"Shortly after midnight on October 31st last year, I was awakened by an owl that screeched three times. My wife immediately became sick, and in two days she was gone."

"And have you heard the owl again this Halloween?"

"Yes. That is why this is so urgent. We don't have much time."

Connie stood up and began to make preparations. She gathered a variety of dried herbs and vials of essential oils from the shelves, and her grandmother's handwritten recipe book. Ryan looked slowly from her to her black cat, his brow wrinkling once more.

"I pray to God you aren't a witch, because I cannot continue with this, if so." He reached for the silver Celtic cross hanging around his neck.

"No. This is not witchcraft, this is medicine." Connie sat at the table, opened her grandmother's book and showed him the lists of herbs and delicate botanical sketches. "God created these plants with strong medicinal properties for us to use to heal our broken world. You see, there is no "eye of newt" in my recipes. No animals are ever harmed and no spells are cast."

He scanned the pages and nodded hesitantly.

"I am sure you know more than I do. Make haste, I beg you."

They set out into the storm on horseback, Ryan leading the way. By the time they arrived at his house it was late afternoon and the snow had finally subsided.

The moment Connie stepped through the door she could feel an overbearing evil presence. Shadow yowled, arched his back, and ran across the room to the bed which had been set up by the fireplace. He leaped up, curling himself protectively across the crown of Talitha's head just as in Connie's dream.

She quickly introduced herself to the attending nurse, putting together a cooling mint poultice and applying it to the sick girl's forehead. Talitha cried and moaned in her sleep. Connie tucked a small bunch of sweetly-scented lavender under her pillow to help her rest. Then she turned to Ryan.

"What unrighteousness have you been harboring since your wife died? Once is a test - you are the one who left the door open for the second attack."

He collapsed into a chair with his head in his hands.

"I have grown bitter and faithless of late," he confessed. "I was angry at God for allowing such a senseless tragedy to befall my family. But how did it start?"

"It appears to be a case of evil eye. Perhaps someone was envious of your situation."

"What must I do to become right with God again?"

"Repent! Do not fear. The Lord is merciful and no evil is greater than our Savior." Connie arranged an alter on a table by the fireplace, with candles, hyssop, sage, the family Bible and her prayer book. She and Ryan got down on their knees and began to pray and read psalms.

The sun set and the room grew dark. Shadow stayed faithfully close to Talitha as the night wore on. Connie boiled a rosemary branch in water on the stove, filling the air with warm aromatic steam. They continued to pray for healing and restoration.

Finally, at about one in the morning, a sudden draft ruffled the curtains. Talitha's fever broke and she fell into a peaceful sleep as Connie and Ryan sat by her. The sound of church bells chiming, faint and mysterious, drifted through the room.

Shadow perked up his ears and moved away from Talitha's head to prowl cautiously around the edges of the room. When he was done he jumped into Connie's lap, purring as if to say "all's well."

"God bless you, Miss Connie," Ryan whispered. "You have saved my daughter's life and my own soul."

From the corner of her eye Connie saw a spider dangling off of the mantle, and smiled. Her new future family was more than she had ever hoped to dream of.