Gabrielle's Journal Series: Flames
by Murphy
Disclaimer:
Do
not own them. You know who does! This is number ten in the Journal Series. Thank
you to my beta team: Becky Lovall, Sam Ruskin, LJ Maas. Deb! Love Ya! This is to
all the flamers out there!! Ex-Guards!! You are the best! Poem one by
Charles Swindoll --Poem two by Dorothy
Law Neite
The
longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to
me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than
education, than dinars, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than
what other people think, say, or do. It is more important than appearance,
giftedness, or skills. It will make or break a business... a temple... a home.
The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude that
we embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact
that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only
thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I
am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I
react to it. And so, it is with you. We are in charge of our attitudes.
Journal
Entry:
Hello.
I am one tired bard today so this entry will be somewhat brief.
You are now looking at the new Grand Champion Bard of Athens.
Xena was nice enough to make time and let me come to the competition. She
usually hates coming to these things because of all the people, but she knew I
really wanted to do it.
Things
were going well and I was so nervous. Going against twenty other bards made it a
tad daunting. What made things worse was the fact that I was announced as the
Bard from Potidaea. I tried my hardest to hide behind my wife, but like the pain
in my ass, that she can be at times, she thought it was funny to push me out in
the open. I shall have revenge on a certain warrior of mine. Maybe it was
revenge enough for her to sit in the stands for hours listening to story after
story. Then again, she slept through most of it.
The
competition was tough. Men and women from all over Greece come to this in hopes
to be number one. For first place, you get a scroll and twenty dinars. Xena and
I can really use those dinars. Winter is coming up and I want to be in a
comfortable room and with a roaring fire.
Some
of the contestants performed poetry, others, stories. When it was my turn, the
butterflies in my stomach felt more like stampeding centaurs. I told the story
about the great Warrior Princess taking on Goliath, which is always a winner.
Then I went into the tale about the Warrior Princess on Cecrops Ship,
that one always knocks them dead. My wife was awake for my turn because one, she
has an ego the size of Olympus and two, she knows I would kill her if it were
otherwise. After my applause died down there were still two more to go, much to
Xena’s dismay.
The
only down side to the day was the last contestant. She was young and untrained,
but the story she performed was very good. What upset me was the bunch of morons
in the stands that were heckling her. Nothing gets my hackles raised faster than
meeting these kinds of people. You know the type. Angry with life and Gods help
you if you are happy. They will do everything in their power to bring you to
their level of stupidity.
I
wonder if these fools that think they know it all, would have the guts to write
something? Then, get up in front of a group of people and bare their soul?
What these judgmental fools do not know or even care to see, is how many
of these tales are life experiences. It is so magical to have a person take you
on a journey. Some stories help the person to heal, or just give you an idea
that they are here. You live through these adventures, these tales to find the
person’s very soul. How can you shun or criticize this? What gives these
people a right to tell a person that they cannot express themselves? What gives
them the right to judge?
If
they just took the time out, they would have heard the tale of her grandmother.
She just passed away and the girl needed to heal. She wrote about the kindness
that her grandmother had. They would sit and quilt while she would tell tales
about when she was young and what life was like. No one was listening to that,
they were too petty. A story goes far beyond form and technique. She just needs
someone to teach her. The stories will improve with time. It is that way with
all of us. The young woman was very close to her grandmother and wanted to tell
tales like the ones she had. Her grandmother did not have any training, just a
gift; I believe the same of this woman. She just needs to have someone believe
in her. That makes all the difference, to know someone out there has faith in
you.
When
I first started I lacked a lot, but with Xena having faith in me and by letting
me go to school, I learned. Criticizing does nothing other than destroying a
person’s will. I am afraid this woman will never tell a tale again. One good
thing about this is that my tall, dark, and deadly murmured something to them
and they got very quiet. The woman finished her tale and walked off. It made my
jaw clench when I saw the tears in her eyes. This makes me so mad and I could
tell Xena was mad also. So I am going to do as my wife did for me, let this
young woman know that I have faith in her.
I
went to speak with her for a bit before they announced the winner. Her name was
Cassy and she was from Corinth. I told her that I have friends at the academy
and I could get her in there. She is rough but with some encouragement she can
be a damn fine bard, and not to lose faith. I also told her that in time her
skin would toughen some. It will hurt, just not as bad. As my warrior says,
"Life is too short to sweat the
assholes of the world."
Then
we heard the announcement of the winner. Yes, I am number one! OK, I have a
slight ego. I went up to retrieve my award and dinars, and there standing and
whistling was one happy wife.
Now,
she knows me. I made a speech, telling them that I could not accept the award
and I gave it to Cassy. I also said that if the hecklers pulled the crap out of
their ears and grew a brain, they would see that she performed one fine story.
Now I think this falls into the category where I always find trouble. Before I
knew it four men were charging me. It didn’t last long, especially with
Warrior Princess there. They also forget I might be the Bard from Potidaea, but
I am also the Amazon Queen with a big stick, and the ability to kick some ass
when needed.
After
the mess Xena and I walked Cassy to the Academy thank the Gods they had room
left for her. She was nice enough to split the dinars with us, so my butt will
be warm for half the winter. Today was a really good day. I say that we truly
worked toward the greater good. We helped someone keep their will and their
faith.
"Gabrielle?"
I look up to see my beautiful wife in bed waiting...naked. Gulp!
"Have
I told you how proud I am of you?" All I could do was nod my head.
"Good,
now I want to show you." Ummmmmmm. Gods, the way the fire dances off her
body.
"I’ll
be right there." I had a huge, eager smile. Gods, what was I writing about?
Well
I am very tired and it is bedtime. Today I am thankful for everything! Looking
back at my naked wife. Oh yeah!
Until tomorrow,
Gabrielle
If
a child lives with criticism, he learns to condemn.
If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight.
If a child lives with ridicule, he learns to be shy.
If a child learns to feel shame, he learns to feel guilty.
If a child lives with tolerance, he learns to be patient.
If a child lives with encouragement, he learns confidence.
If a child lives with praise, he learns to appreciate.
He a child lives with fairness, he learns justice.
If a child lives with security, he learns to have faith.
If a child lives with approval, he learns to like himself.
If a child lives with acceptance and friendship, he learns to find love in the
world.