Prompt from PrideOnThePage
“Is it true you’ve been the priest here for a hundred and thirteen years?”
Anna looked down at herself. “Let’s see… I’ve got the centenary sash. And they gave it to me… it was soon after the Hatchon’s littlest was born. Jamie. And he’s over ten but not had his manhood ceremony. So a hundred and thirteen sounds right.”
She leant on her walking stick and smiled. “But then, what’s a few years once you’re past a hundred, eh?”
The novice laughed uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot. “M-My name’s Susan. I’d like to study under you. If you d-don’t mind!”
“Oh, I, I don’t mind, but… I’m not sure I’ve much to teach.”
Susan gawped. “But you’ve been married to Maevra longer than anyone!”
“Well, yes.” Anna smiled gently and stroked her divine amulet. “Everyone said I was too young, but I knew where my heart lay. And so did She. Dare say nobody thinks I was too hasty now.”
“Oh, no, the High Mothers always say you’re an inspiration!”
“Do they?” Anna blinked, her forehead furrowing into a net of perplexed wrinkles. “Well. That’s very kind of them. It’s not like I’ve managed any miracles, or even great works.”
Susan frowned, her nervous hopping shifting to scuffing. “You don’t think over a century of service is a ‘great work’?”
“No? I’ve simply done my job. Every day is a blessing from Maevra which I seek to do right by. I took oaths of care and providence and there are endless chances to fulfil such, praise be.”
Susan folded her arms and scrutinised the kindly, somewhat doddering figure.
Not at all what she’d expected from descriptions of Anna the Devoted. The woman was quietly legendary. Halfway to a saint already. Everyone said that when she did die - Maevra ward it - she’d be anointed into the canon within a day.
Three generations of being a stalwart guiding light, all those tales of how her kindness and advice had changed someone’s life for the better, an entire city which boasted about her piety… and here she herself was, dismissing it all as ‘doing her job’.
Which it was, Susan had read all the vows and studied how they were modelled, and Anna the Devoted was always pointed to as an example. She distributed every kind of kindness recognised by the canon. Every day.
On the way here Susan had tried to add up how many days were in one hundred and thirteen years, and had quickly put the abacus down. The number was overwhelming. Multiplying that by even one person administered was… how could that not be a great work?
It was a daunting great work, certainly. Perhaps moreso than undergoing a miracle. That was a matter of divine tides and all sorts, whereas this… this was ‘just’ showing up and doing your best.
Every. Single. Day.
Susan smiled and bowed low. “I think… I think you have as much to teach as I have to learn. How do we start?”
Prompt was “Devotion”.
Leeron, I found myself softening into each sentence. I felt devotion pulsing right through the pauses, through Anna’s quiet breath, through the years she never counted as glory—only as presence. I return to that kind of steadiness often. The kind that speaks in small, repeated gestures. I’ve met it in others, and I’m learning to live it in myself. You reminded me that devotion doesn’t need a stage. It lives in the showing up. The tending. The grace of someone who says, “I’ve simply done my job,” and in doing so, shaped generations. Thank you for this clear, grounded offering.