The group followed the stream until it led them into a large clearing rich with blackberries and plums, thick-trunked birch and majestic oaks. The children paused to play as Emma surveyed her location. She offered a gentle warning: “Somewhere ahead is the boundary pole. We ought not venture beyond it.”
Richard turned a keen eye into the forest. “Can we not go a little more, just a few steps past the pole?” he begged.
Emma smiled at the row of bright eyes waiting expectantly. She lovingly squeezed Heinrich’s round cheeks. “And you, young squire? Would you like to cross over?”
“Aye!” the boy answered without hesitation.
Emma paused for a moment of contemplation. There was something special about the lad, and she was sure he was touched by destiny for something uncommon and good. An orange butterfly danced at the boy’s elbow, and the woman held a long-stemmed flower toward it.. With one eye on the butterfly and the other on Heinrich she sang:
Oh, wondrous new creature, break from your cocoon
And stretch your fresh wings upon these tender blooms.
Come flutter ‘tween flowers, and sail o’er the trees,
Or light on m’finger and dance in the breeze.
Since change is your birthright, fly free and be bold
And fear not the tempest, the darkness, or cold.
Press on to new places, seek color and light,
Find smiles and laughter and joy on your flight.
For though you see dimly; your certainties few,
Your Maker stands steady and constant and true.
He guards you and guides you till travelin’s done,
His breath moves the breezes; His heart warms the sun.
Her song finished, Emma raised her brows and winked slyly. “Well then, follow me!” The happy column pranced through waist-high ferns, whispering and tittering to each other until Emma suddenly stopped and hushed the children.
“Sshh … look.” She pointed anxiously to a dark figure bending at the dark edge of the forest wall. The group quickly crouched low in the ferns as Emma studied the man carefully. He was moving slowly and appeared to be gathering things into a large satchel hanging at his side. Curiosity nudged Emma forward. “Quietly, children. Follow quietly,” she whispered.
The excitement was too much for Ingelbert and he giggled out loud. The man stood suddenly upright and turned toward the clearing. “Who goes there?” he called.
Emma quickly threw herself in the grass and pulled the boys down beside her. “Sshh! Ingly… sshh!”
Poor Ingelbert thought the moment to be a wonderful game, and he lay in the grass wide-eyed and chortling, two hands clamped firmly over his mouth. Richard punched him on the shoulder but it made the scene that much funnier to the good-natured boy.
Cautiously, Emma moved to see where the man might be. The bun atop her head rose above the grass and the man laughed. “Ha, ha! Is that a bird’s nest I see?”
The woman drew a deep breath and stood up, shamefaced and nervous. She brushed the brambles and chaff off her woollen. As the man came closer, Emma smiled. With some relief, she turned to the boys. “A monk! He’s a monk!”
The young brother smiled and waved. “You’ve naught to fear, sister.”
Emma smiled timidly and waited respectfully. She watched the bearded man as he approached and judged him to be around twenty. As he came closer she noticed his gait to be strong and nimble, his features amiable and pleasing.
“Good day, sister. God’s blessing on you and your lads.”
“And to you, brother. I am Emma of Weyer. This is m’son, Ingelbert, and m’good friends, Heinrich and Richard.”
“And I am Lukas, the herbalist of Villmar.”
Emma nodded but was puzzled. The monks rarely left their cloister. It was usually forbidden for them to engage the world beyond the monastery walls, and this brother was at the farthest edge of the manor. Her confusion was evident.
“And you wonder why I am wandering the forest? Why am I not tucked away behind the walls, bound by the Rule? And, what of the prayers of nones on this holy day?” The monk smiled mischievously.
Emma knew the angels had blessed her with a new friend. She smiled and her dancing eyes told the man he was in sympathetic company. “’Tis true,” laughed Emma. “I do wonder some.”
“And I, as well!” Lukas chuckled. “The abbot demands more order to his Order, but I reason that I vowed my poverty, obedience, and charity to God—not an abbot, archbishop, or pope! Methinks the whole of the world is His monastery. So, I’m apt to wander a bit. I believe it is the better way to serve.”
Emma smiled.
“Ah, but forgive me, sister. I ought not bore you and these Kinder with such talk. I am collecting wild herbs and nuts for the new herbarium the abbot is building. I could use a few good hands!”