The Scroll

9 - Wealth

Kohelet rapped on his widow ledge and whistled Simca's tune. The little bird looked his way. Kohelet whistled it again, and Simca darted into the air.

Caleb's face thrust through the window, mouthing a silent curse. The man leaned out of his window to follow Simca's path over to Kohelet's apartment. He shook his fist at Kohelet, catching his elbow on his trap and toppling it out onto the pavement, where it shattered to bits. He opened his mouth to shout but then yanked his head back inside.

Kohelet shook his head. It was a good thing that he was staying indoors for a few days. He wouldn't care to meet Caleb on the street. It wouldn't be out of character for him to strike an older man.

Simca hopped closer and cocked her head to look at him. He bit off a piece of apple and placed it on the ledge. She gave it a cursory peck. "Sorry, little bird, I have no more figs for you." He glanced at the basket. "How about a little bread? It's even fresh for once."

Breaking off a piece of the loaf in Eli's basket, he held it out to her. Simca pecked at the bread in his hand. "I am not helping you, am I? You have become so used to people feeding you that you will be easy to catch." Kohelet looked across the way. Thankfully Caleb was not in his window.

"I would quit feeding you, but then you would certainly be drawn to Caleb's trap." Simca looked at him with bright eyes and chirped. "If he catches you, he will put out your eyes so you will never know the light of a new day. You will live out your days in darkness, always singing for a dawn that can never come for you again. Caleb will use your continual song to fetch himself a high price for you in the market."

He tore off another piece of bread and laid it on the ledge. "Let's you and I make an agreement. You stay away from Caleb's window, and I will make sure there is bread her for you every day." Simca stopped pecking a moment, and her head bobbed in seeming agreement.

Caleb appeared on the street and retrieved his broken cage. He gave an angry glance at Kohelet and went back inside. The man would not be giving up. He needed money, and Simca's beautiful song would give him a quick sale.

Caleb's door slammed shut and the market fell silent. Kohelet sat at his desk and watched Simca finish her bread. If only the house of God could be this quiet...there was so little time to reflect and quietly meditate, for some reason people thought it was always necessary to talk aloud about God and to God. As he aged he had less patience for it. With his failing hearing, their loud prayers sounded like a herd of cattle bawling in their stalls. It was one of the reasons he rarely went anymore.

Guard your steps when you go to the house of God. Draw near to listen rather than to offer the worship of fools who speak before they think. Do not be hasty to utter a word in God's presence. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few. Just as dreams come when there are many worries, so does foolish talk when there are many words.

Foolish talk proliferated when thoughts flowed without any consideration of whether it was the best time to bring up a matter or whether it should be spoken at all. The human mind produced many untrue and unkind thoughts and once the words were blurted out they became community property. Harmful words could last a lifetime.

When it came to discussing God, there were even more words. It seemed people had to hear each other talking about God to believe God was actually there. Yet in his lifetime he had discovered that the people he now considered most spiritual were often the ones who did not have a great need to prove it.

Simca chirped at him. Her bread was gone, and he broke off another piece.

"Are you also praying for your needs to be met? Asking to be fed so you don't have to risk the traps in the orchards and on Caleb's window?" He placed the bread in front of her, and she resumed her pecking.