THE KING AND THE WHORE

 

"Apologise to her", his wife said.

"Apologise to her, not because you are wrong and she is right, but because you have what she seeks - love, belonging, acceptance, forgiveness."

"Apologise to her", his wife said.

"Apologise to her because love is generous. Apologise to her because loves sees beyond the words, beyond the actions, beyond the intent - love sees the heart."

"Apologise to her", his wife said.

"Apologise because love sees in the bleeding heart, the gaping hole that we all desperately try to fill, sometimes with money, with possessions, with status, with religion, with sex. That open wound that can only be healed by love."

"Apologise to her", his wife said.

"Apologise because love sees that all actions are motivated by a deep desire to love and be loved, to own and be owned, to accept and be accepted, to know that our lives are not just a shadow. To know that we too matter."

"Apologise to her", his wife said.

"Apologise because she too is a child of God. She too is loved by God."

"Apologise to her," his wife said.

"Apologize because she seeks that which God has so graciously given to you, someone who loves you, and always will no matter what."

"Apologise to her", his wife said. "

"Apologise because while love may sometimes leave a trail of broken hearts in its wake, it should never leave crushed spirits."

"Apologise to her," his wife said.

"Apologise that you may be free of the cry of a lonely soul who sought only to be loved, to belong, to be accepted for herself."

"Apologise to her," his wife said.

"Apologise that your standard may once more fly high and all will say, there goes a warrior king. A worthy opponent, magnanimous in victory, wise, just. A man no doubt, but more - a king."

"Apologise to her," his wife said.

"Apologize because in the parable of the unforgiving servant [Matt. 18:21-35], you are the king, not the slave."

 

And the man arose, and walked towards the whore. She lay where she had fallen when he struck her. She braced herself for another blow.

He looked down at her whimpering, shaking, broken body. Then he turned and looked at his wife.

She smiled the sweet, gentle smile of a soul who has known fear. She nodded ever so slightly. And in that moment, he knew love. So he reached down to the beautiful woman who lay at his feet and said, "I apologise".

 

The whore froze, and then began to cry hot silent tears. The blow, she could have taken. The apology… The king held out to her the handkerchief his wife passed on to him. She took it without looking up, wiped her tears, blew her nose then slowly, gingerly, looked up. "Thank you", she mouthed silently to the wife.

The wife shook her head and mouthed back, "No, thank you."

And in that moment, wife and whore were queens. And the grocer was truly a king.