|
|
|
|
|
 Features
The Story "Ohhh, the pain," Marvin groaned as he limped toward the town square. Marvin, the oldest person in the Land of the Hardlies, was only thirty-six years old. All the Hardlies walking beside him, all the people in the houses he passed, and all the children playing in the yards were dying of a disease called Harm. Due to Harm they hardly lived, they hardly laughed, they hardly sang, they hardly smiled. The Land of the Hardlies was hardly the kind of place you would choose to live or even visit. Marvin had earned himself the reputation of being not only the oldest Hardly but also the most bitter. On nights when he couldn't sleep due to his suffering, he would compose poems about the hopelessness of life as a Hardly. In the morning he would croak his mournful verses in the town square where he always attracted an audience. Today when Marvin arrived at the square, he found a crowd had already gathered, but not for him. At the center of attention stood a man as straight and strong as an oasis palm thriving in a desert. No one doubted that he was a newcomer to their land. In a crisp voice the stranger declared, "Dear Hardly people, I am a doctor, and I have heard of your tragic plight. With my knowledge of the healing arts I have prepared for you the only medicine in all the world that can cure you." Holding aloft a crystal flask of ruby red liquid, he added, "I call it Soda Gratia!" "Ha! You're a liar!" Marvin jeered. "I wasted half of my miserable life working with the Harm Research Society. Our finest doctors and scientists never found a cure, and they never will. There is no cure!" The whole crowd echoed Marvin's verdict, "No cure! No cure! No cure!" "I agree you have labored tirelessly to discover a remedy," the Doctor affirmed, "but you never could have found it. Only I know the prescription for Soda Gratia, and all its ingredients are extremely rare and priceless. Venturing all over the world in search of the ingredients, I have spent fortunes and risked my life, so that I might gain all that you need to be healed. Today I come to you Hardlies with the only cure for all the ravages of Harm." As the Hardlies listened, their hearts flickered with hope, a strange new sensation. A sickly boy stumbled forward to request some of the medicine which sparkled invitingly in the Doctor's hand. Then he hesitated. "Please, Sir, how much does the Soda Gratia cost? I only have a couple pennies." "Who said anything about cost?" he laughed. "Come, all who are sick and dying, all who are hardly living, come and I will give you new health. You who have no money, come receive freely a life-restoring drink of Soda Gratia!" "Wait! Wait just one minute!" Boiling with suspicion, Marvin stomped up to the Doctor. "What are you up to? You said you risked your life and spent fortunes for this medicine. There must be a charge. What's the catch, mister?" Unruffled, the Doctor asked, "What could you give me that would fully repay me for what I have done for you? What could you offer that would be a fair exchange for what you will receive: life itself, abundant and beautiful? Soda Gratia is so precious that it can't be bought. It can only be given." Holding out the crystal flask of crimson cure, he invited, "Here, Marvin, have a drink." Amazed at the stranger's generosity, Marvin took the bottle and cautiously raised it to his lips. A single drop of Soda Gratia touched his tongue. How refreshing and delicious it tasted, not like medicine at all. So he swallowed some more. The juices of life rushed through his dried-apple-core body until he felt like a September winesap freshly plucked from the tree. Upon witnessing the robust change in Marvin, all the people cheered a cheer like had never been cheered before in all the Land of the Hardlies. Soon all the Hardlies had been healed by the Doctor's Soda Gratia, and their lives took on a new luster. Before, they had hardly smiled or laughed. Now they could hardly keep from smiling and laughing and dancing and singing. They also could hardly keep from thanking the Doctor for his kindness. They insisted that he move into the large house which formerly had been the headquarters of the Harm Research Society. Whenever anyone got a touch of Harm again, they would come to the house to be healed. Curiously, they also dropped by the Doctor's home even when they were well, for they had found him to be not only a marvelous physician, but also a wonderful friend whose company they valued highly. This happy life continued until one day when the Doctor informed them, "My friends, I must now be leaving the Land of the Hardlies. Other people in distant places also need my help." "But what shall we do if we get sick again?" they asked. "Don't worry. I promise you, no matter what happens, you will never run out. I have stocked my house full of Soda Gratia, and I have appointed Marvin and others of your leaders to distribute the medicine as it is needed. They will be called Sharers of the Soda Gratia. Farewell, my friends. Enjoy your health!" You would expect that "they lived happily ever after." But that isn't what happened. After a few years, the Hardlies began to think, "Sure, the Doctor said that the Soda was free, but people had better be good and thankful for it. To make sure that they are, it would be most fitting if they paid something to show their appreciation." How they loved this idea. Paying for the medicine made them feel important, and some would brag about the extravagant gifts they had given. "I gave my favorite pearl necklace," one lady bragged to at least two people a day. "I parted with the beautiful candlesticks my dear aunt gave me," a fellow crowed. Actually, though, he detested his dear aunt and had sentenced the candlesticks to exile in the attic for years. Before long, paying for the Soda Gratia became so popular that the people started to believe that all by itself the remedy could not heal anyone. "On the contrary," they chattered, "only when you contribute your own part to the cure by paying for it can the medicine be effective." Such foolish ideas eventually changed the Sharers of the Soda Gratia into Keepers of the Soda Gratia. When everyone had fully accepted the selling of the medicine, Marvin and the other Sharers could not resist the temptation to raise the price higher and higher. Over the years Soda Gratia became so expensive that, when the Hardlies became sick with Harm, they were unable to purchase more than a drop or two. Some died. Others hardly stayed alive. As more and more gifts were brought to the Keepers, the Doctor's house eventually resembled a packed warehouse. So the Keepers decided to build a mansion with a huge treasure room in which to store all the wealth. When the mansion was nearing completion, the Keepers made plans for their first day in the building to be a special holiday. They appointed Marvin to commence the day's activities with a speech at nine o'clock in the morning. All the Hardlies were invited to the celebration. On the day before Marvin's speech, the Keepers were busy moving everything from the Doctor's house into the mansion. Dusk was falling as they headed for the mansion with the last load. When the chill air made Marvin shiver, he realized he had left his coat behind at the house. "You go ahead. I'm going back for my coat," he told the others. However, the cold wasn't the only reason he wanted it. The old Keeper always stored a flask of Soda Gratia in his coat pocket in case he might feel a touch of Harm coming on. Exhausted from the moving, Marvin thought that he might need the medicine. Inside the house, he spotted his coat lying on a high shelf where he had tossed it so that the movers wouldn't accidentally pack it away. Climbing onto a creaking crate, Marvin was able to reach the coat, but, as he did so, he was surprised to see something else up on the shelf: a dusty, old notebook. "That old book sure is a cheap gift," he snickered. "It couldn't have bought much Soda Gratia, not even in the old days. What's it about?" When he blew the dust off the cover, the title nearly blew him off the crate: "My Days among the Hardlies: The Diary of the Good Doctor." How long had it been since Marvin had even thought about the Doctor? With trembling hands, he opened the book and read. The journal entries wrenched Marvin's mind back to the days when the Doctor had lived in this very house. Days of friendship and merriment. Never had the old Keeper read a book which brought so much delight and sorrow at the same time. First he rejoiced as he relived the days when the Doctor had given away the Soda Gratia. Then he wept because he had hoarded the life-giving medicine. An hour later he lifted moist eyes from the manuscript. Tucking the book under his arm, he walked out into the darkness. Up streets and down roads he wandered. He heard the clock in the town hall strike every hour as he pondered his options all through the night. When the clock finally struck nine, he arrived at the mansion to deliver his speech. And he knew what he had to say. Trumpeters played a fanfare while Marvin stepped on the stage and gazed at the crowd of Hardlies. Sick and unsmiling. Wizened and wheezing. Decrepit and dying. Thousands had gathered, for the Keepers had announced that in honor of the occasion a limited amount of Soda Gratia would be on sale at half price. Marvin had a better idea. "The Soda Gratia should be free!" he shouted. The jaws of the Keepers dropped. The crowd instantly hushed. Hurriedly, Marvin told them how he had discovered the diary, and then he read to them the Doctor's account of the day he arrived in the Land of the Hardlies. Marvin concluded, "We Keepers are wrong. We should be sharing the Soda Gratia freely." One of the Keepers stood up and argued, "Everyone knows that the Soda Gratia is free, but the medicine doesn't work if we don't show our thanks by paying for it." "If that's so," Marvin countered, "then how do you explain that first day? Even though we paid nothing for the Soda Gratia, we were completely healed. Don't you see what a bargain that was, my friends?" The crowd buzzed with disapproval, and then someone shouted, "Are you saying we shouldn't be thankful?" "Tell me," Marvin asked, "are you really thankful now? Are you grateful while grubbing for enough money to purchase a drop of Soda Gratia which will hardly keep you alive? But on that first day, when we didn't pay a cent, gratitude flowed from our hearts like a butterfly taking wing from its cocoon. The Soda Gratia is free!" Enraged at Marvin's words, the rest of the Keepers grabbed him and threw him down from the stage. "You're no longer a Keeper," they growled, "and you'll never get any Soda Gratia from us again!" Two men in the audience picked Marvin up and shoved him away. Everywhere he looked he received hostile stares from the sunken eyes of the Hardlies. When they had driven him to the back of the crowd, the Keepers announced a new speaker, and everyone turned their attention away from Marvin. Everyone, that is, except for one feeble girl leaning on a crutch. "Sir, if the Soda Gratia is free, please give me some," she pleaded. "Young lady, I don't have any Soda Gratia to..." The rest of the words caught in his throat. He did have one bottle left, the one hidden in his coat pocket. "What should I do?" Marvin wondered to himself. "The Keepers said I would never get any Soda Gratia from them again. Being an old man, Harm could make a quick finish of me. With only one bottle of healing left for myself, am I to give it away to this beggar girl who's the least of all the Hardlies?" While Marvin's conscience wrestled with these thoughts, his hand crept to the flask in his pocket. Secretively touching the smooth glass, almost caressing it, he recalled the first time he had ever touched one of the bottles. He could see the Doctor holding out the crystal flask of crimson cure, inviting him, "Here, Marvin, have a drink." Now he saw another hand held out to him, the pleading hand of the dying girl. "Here you are, my child. If I can't be a Keeper any longer, I must be a Sharer once again." As Marvin spoke, several people at the back of the crowd turned to tell him to hush up so they could hear the speaker. However, seeing a full bottle of Soda Gratia in the girl's hand, they themselves hushed up and couldn't help but look on. She raised the flask to her lips and drank deeply. In a moment she was well. "Marvin, you were right!" a man exclaimed. "I'd give anything to be healed like that!" "You don't hafta give anything, 'cause it's free," said the girl as she handed him the bottle. After the man drank the medicine, it was passed to another and then yet another. Marvin was both delighted and amazed. Surely these folks had already drunk much more than the bottle could possibly hold. Why wasn't it empty? Then he remembered the Doctor's parting words: "No matter what happens you will never run out." With the assurance of this promise, Marvin concluded that as long as there was even one Hardly in need of the Doctor's healing, this flask of Soda Gratia would never run dry. Sure enough, everyone in the group at the back of the crowd drank their fill and were cured of Harm. And still the flask was as full as ever. When the last one in the group returned it to Marvin, they all cheered a cheer, the kind of cheer that had been heard only once before in the Land of the Hardlies. Surprised by the firecracker-sharp cheer, the Keepers on the platform stopped speaking, and the whole crowd turned around to see what was happening. Amid the hush, Marvin lifted high the flask and invited, "Come, all who are sick and dying, all who are hardly living, come receive new health. You who have no money, come, receive freely a life-restoring drink of the Good Doctor's gift elixir, Soda Gratia."
To Perform "The Healing of the Hardlies" If you wish to perform this drama:
Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. |