Part I: John’s Parents Fall in Love
John was born to wealthy parents on a lavish estate in the south of France, 1313 years after Christ.
His father was a member of the French aristocracy, albeit, a low-ranking member.
His mother was sweet-hearted, beautiful, and had yellow hair, the color of straw in autumn.
Her piercing blue eyes and pale, white skin were the first things John’s father had noticed about her.
They met at a large party, or Ball, held by the King of France in Paris.
John’s father fell deeply in love with her when they first danced together.
It was the first day of John’s father’s happiness and joy, and for many weeks after the ball, John’s father could not stop thinking about the beautiful young woman with yellow hair and piercing blue eyes.
He saw her face in the night sky, and in the river on his family’s estate.
He saw her dancing and twirling in the clouds, and he saw her smile in the light of the setting sun.
He was madly in love with her, and after some time, he decided to visit her family’s estate, two days’ ride on horseback from his home.
He sent a messenger to tell of his coming arrival, two weeks later.
He brought gifts of homemade soft cheese and hard, smoked meats along with fruit jams that were produced on his family’s estate.
He was blissful as he rode to her.
He traveled with two manservants, and they told him that they had never seen him in such a joyful mood.
When he arrived at the large stone home at the end of a long, gravel pathway he was greeted by the elderly patriarch of the house, L’ Count de Chamay, surrounded by his servants.
The Count was very happy to see John’s father, as he had heard stories from his daughter of the strong nobleman whom she had danced with at the ball.
He embraced the newcomer with a smile on his face, and welcomed him to the estate.
He asked him to state his title and familial line, as was the proper way to understand a man of nobility in those times.
John’s father listed his many titles and claims, and told the story of when the king of France granted his great-great grandfather his Knighthood and Class.
The count was impressed enough, and invited the man into the house for food and wine, and later, a hot bath and cleansing from his long ride in the hot summer sun.
John’s mother looked on the scene taking place in the driveway from her balcony on the third floor of the house, and her heart raced with passion and love for the man whom she had met at the ball.
She felt like a young girl for the first time in years, and wrote in her journal of her excitement that he had come to see her again.
They met at dinner that night.
The servants had roasted a fat pig over a fire for 12 hours, and prepared many cakes and sweet-breads to be enjoyed by the guest of honor.
Lemonade, wine, wheat beer, and fruit juices were prepared and offered to the guest.
A young musician from the neighboring estate brought his lute and miniature harp and played sweet music for the small dinner party.
John’s father, who was very fond of food and fine drink, was thinking only of the beautiful woman across the table from him, seated next to her father, who sat at the head of the table.
He found he had only a light appetite despite his long and arduous ride.
He wanted the dinner to end quickly so he could walk under the stars with the lovely woman who had yellow hair, the color of straw in autumn.
John’s mother found herself nervous and her heart beat with intensity when she noticed the man gazing at her across the table.
She was happy he had come.
L’Count de Chamay talked a lot at dinner that night, about things that affected the Kingdom of Christ.
The moors in the Holy land, and the heathens in the orient, were particularly irksome to the Count and he made sure to tell everybody at the table just what he thought about them.
“They all deserve to burn in hell for all I care!” was an ending to a particularly long rant that the Count gave.
The Count then noticed that everyone had finished eating except for him, and he decided to shut up and let everyone carry on with the night’s activities.
John’s father seized the moment and asked the Count if it would be all right if he walked the grounds with his daughter, so that she may show him the various parts of the estate.
The count agreed and stood to kiss his daughter on both cheeks.
He whispered in her ear, “ Have fun my sweet rose.”
She smiled and took John’s father by the arm.
They strode out the backdoor to the rose gardens, and walked slowly, arm in arm, for hours.
She showed him the hen houses, and the pavilion.
She showed him the small dairy and the cows’ barn.
She showed him her secret place in the forest where she used to play as a young girl, chasing fairies and dreaming of meeting her one-true love.
They almost kissed when she told him that, but at the last moment, she pulled her face away, and pulled him by the arm.
They kept walking in the dark, moonlit forest until they arrived to the small creek that ran through it.
There they were silent for a time, and watched a Blue heron spread its’ wings and take flight.
They were both very much in love with each other.
That night felt like one thousand nights.
They held each other by the water, listening to the splashing, and the sound of the birds flying through the trees.
They walked back to the house before dawn, and John’s father kissed her on the hand before saying “Bonne nuit.”
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They were married less than 3 months later, during the autumn harvest.
The ceremony was held in the Cathedral in the town nearest to John’s mothers’ family estate.
The wedding reception was very grand, and the party held in their honor drew large crowds from all over.
The Count spared no expense, and had luxurious goods brought from all over France and the Orient to the massive gathering.
Fine porcelain plates and tea sets, gold and silver flatware, fine lace tablecloths, and huge bouquets of colorful flowers adorned the massive tables arranged in the field behind the big stone house.
There were spots at the tables for one hundred and fifty guests, but more than five hundred showed up.
The Count was in ecstasy, and had so much fun letting the party take place at his usually quiet, country home.
He told the servants to give as much food and wine as possible to the partygoers, and to open up the reserves from the cellar, to keep everyone fed and happy.
Music filled the air.
Lute, Guitar, Cello, drums, singers, and bassoon players maintained a lively and fun atmosphere for many hours, stopping only to dine and hear the Count give his speech of Love and adoration for his daughter and her new husband.
He stood on the table and shouted to the crowd, and said a prayer of thanks to God for the pleasures felt by all who attended.
John’s father stayed by his wife’s side the whole night, and was deeply thankful and happy.
As he looked at his beautiful wife, who was laughing and sharing stories with her many friends, he felt a deep peace in his heart, one he had never felt before and would not feel again in his lifetime.
He could not help but gaze at her and smile as he noticed that the color of the dry grass in the field was the exact color of her yellow hair- golden, and shimmering.
He saw the color of the sky in her eyes. There was no difference to him.
The partygoers ate over one hundred wheels of cheese, and drank over six hundred bottles of red wine.
Ten pigs were roasted, as well as five cows, twelve goats, and fifty ducks.
The massive crowd enjoyed one hundred and seventy-five platters of roast autumn vegetables, sprinkled with thyme and rosemary.
The servants worked hard to keep the food moving through the crowd until the early hours of the morning.
The partygoers brought many delicious cakes and sweets, and their friends and neighbors fed each other by hand, and all had a wonderful evening.
The party was the talk of the town for years, and set a high standard for decades of local wedding receptions afterward.
Just before dawn, the Count and his drunk, elderly friends decided it was time to push the new couple into their bedroom, as was standard in those times.
They mobbed the tired but happy couple, drunk and shouting profanities, and not so gently forced them into the house and up the stairs to the third floor bedroom where John’s mother had slept most of her life.
The mob pushed the newlyweds inside and slammed the door shut, laughing hysterically and loudly offering suggestions of lovemaking technique for the new couple to experiment with.
“Just remember what happened to the Sodomites!” shouted the Count as he blushed and hurried the mob away from his daughters’ bedroom.
The newlyweds held each other for a long time, swaying back and forth and embracing each other’s bodies.
As the morning sun shone through the window, John’s father kissed John’s mother, with great passion, as he pulled her into his arms with force.
John’s mother forgot her whole life in that moment, and only felt Love for her Husband, and the sun’s morning rays on her face.
She felt warm, whole, happy, and youthful.
He felt her in his arms, and loved how soft her skin was.
He felt her curvaceous hips in his hands, and tasted red wine on his lips after kissing her.
They loved each other.
In the fullness of the morning sun, they went to bed, and fell deeply asleep.
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John’s parents made arrangements to travel by carriage to John’s father’s estate in the south of France.
They left the Count’s home after one week, and enjoyed their peaceful ride through the countryside.
They arrived at their estate, and rested for many days.
Reading each other their favorite stories and fairytales, and taking long walks by the small river were their favorite activities at the time.
They made love every night for weeks, and both of them were very satisfied with each other.
John’s father was fierce and strong most of the time, but in the bedroom with his wife, he was very gentle and loving.
He wanted her to be happy, and he told her so everyday.
She was very happy, and enjoyed exploring her new life with her husband.
She took up crocheting when she found a forgotten crochet set in a cupboard, and found the activity to be very peaceful and meditative.
A few weeks before Christmas, she realized that she was pregnant.
She didn’t tell her husband for some time, because she wanted to be absolutely sure.
Before sleeping one night, as John’s father lay in bed and watched his wife undress, he noticed that her breasts were swollen and larger than normal.
He then saw a small curve at the bottom of her stomach, and he began to wonder if she was suffering from some unknown sickness.
As she slid into their bed, and kissed him on the cheek, he asked her if she was feeling all right and if she had any symptoms of disease that she had not shared with him.
She told him “no, of course not,” as she shared almost everything with her husband.
He exclaimed that he saw her swollen breasts and large belly just moments before.
She smiled at him, and told him that he would have a child in the summertime.
“I think he will be a boy…” She said.
John’s father jumped out of bed and ran to the small window beside the fireplace and yelled to the heavens “ A son! A son! I am going to have a son!” and punched the air in joy and ecstasy.
He danced around the room in his nightgown and kicked his feet in a circle like an Irish river dancer.
He went to his wife and kissed her passionately, and she smiled as she saw joy pouring out of his eyes.
They made love with great veracity that night, and held each other afterwards, hearts beating and sweat pouring off their bodies.
John’s father kissed his wife on her belly, and they slept without nightgowns.
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John was born in June, during a heat wave that swept through the countryside.
His delivery was a long one, and lasted the better part of a day.
From before dawn until after dusk John’s mother labored and struggled against the pain of childbirth.
At noon, while she lay in bed in the upstairs bedroom, sweating and cursing the heat, John’s mother demanded to be moved to the wine cellar below the house.
The servants helped her down the stairs, and John’s father cleared a space in the middle of the cellar and placed straw mats in a pile, covered with a blanket.
He was sure to move the wine bottles to the far side of the cellar, and removed the turnips, beets and carrots to the kitchen.
It was much cooler in the wine cellar, and John’s mother knew that she could deliver her child there.
Johns father was very nervous, and as was customary at the time, was in a far corner of the house for most of the day, pacing, and wringing his hands over and over.
The lady servants of the house helped John’s mother deliver her child, and she screamed from the pain many times.
At one point, a bottle of vintage red wine was knocked over by a rushing lady servant, and shattered, cascading red wine all over the floor.
John’s mother smelled the vintage, and demanded a glass be poured for her.
She drank the red wine in three big gulps, and a few minutes later, John was no longer inside of her belly, but was on the blanket in front of her, bloody, covered in fluid, and screaming.
John’s mother felt pure ecstasy and relief, and immediately began to sob.
A lady servant tied two strings tightly around the umbilical cord, and another cut the cord with a kitchen knife.
John was taken to the Kitchen sink were he was washed off with warm water, and wrapped in a small wool blanket.
He was brought back to the wine cellar, and John’s mother held him for the first time.
She cried even harder when she saw his face.
He was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.
A manservant invited John’s father to the cellar, and he ran across the house and down the stairs.
He walked up to his smiling wife, and kissed her on the forehead.
He looked at his Son for the first time, smiled, and began to cry.
He then saw the broken wine bottle and the spilled wine, and thought for a moment that it was blood.
He was petrified for a moment, and thought that his wife was dying.
A lady servant saw the look of terror on his face, and reassured him that it was only wine and that his wife had a healthy birth.
John’s father fainted, and collapsed onto a table behind him.
It was the only time he would faint in his life.
The Fire Within 