Breaking The Alabaster Box by Tyson Goddard (most read books in the world of all time .txt) ๐
Excerpt from the book:
A woman shunned by society, used by men, nameless...and yet she would become one of the most famous women in the bible.
A courtesan in the town of Bethany, she hears the teaching of this man named Jesus. Something pulls at her heart to go and express her belief in his teachings.
But what could she bring to the son of God?
Little does she know, he has something for her.
A courtesan in the town of Bethany, she hears the teaching of this man named Jesus. Something pulls at her heart to go and express her belief in his teachings.
But what could she bring to the son of God?
Little does she know, he has something for her.
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at the small innocent container. She would anoint him, surely his feet would be washed after such a long humid day, she would anoint his feet with the perfume, but she would only use a little bit, she still had to get back to work later that night.
Holding the jar in her hand she strode around the corner and walked through the open door of the house.
Walking through the simple and small courtyard she passed a servant carrying a platter of stuffed pheasant, the smell was delicious, yet she kept walking, she could not afford to be thrown out, time taken to stop was time wasted. Walking through an arch way she stepped into the midst of the dining room, she looked around the room at the faces of the men, some were Pharisees, men that she had known, other men she had seen in passing. But there he was, the man she had come to see, the man she had loved from a distance for โฆ only a little while now. She loved him as these few that were around him had loved him. He looked at her, the word escaped her mouth in a whisper โEmmanuelโ.
She walked silently around the low table to where he was reclining, as she passed various members she heard mutterings of disgrace on their breath. A woman who was breathtakingly beautiful sat towards the corner of the table, she watched her silently, knowingly, she heard one of the men lean towards her and whisper. โMary..โ he had said.
She looked down at his feet, โmy lords feetโ she thought, and saw they were still dusty. Why hadnโt they been washed when heโd walked in? she knelt down at his feet and realized she had no water, no towel, what would she use?
She had failed him, like her whole life had been a failure, and now she knelt before the king with nothing to offer but the gaudy perfume of a hetaerae. She began to weep and her tears fell on his feet, she knelt and kissed where her tears had fallen, as her tears streamed over her masters feet she dried them with her hair, her long curling raven locks that had been a part of her work for so long, the hair that she had hidden under when she gave herself over, now she pressed it to her lords feet as her tears washed away the dust.
He spoke with one of the other men, his tone was scornful, in a moment of insecurity she looked to him, was he angry with her? But the look in his eyes confirmed that he was not. Taking the vial she went sprinkle a few drops over his feet, remembering that she still had to work later that night and would need the perfume, but she stopped and looked at him, he was gazing at her, his eyes talking to her heart, she looked at him, and then looked at the alabaster vial, the symbol of her life, the beacon of her profession. โnever again, you never need to againโ a small voice said within her.
As if her hands operated on their own they smashed the alabaster vial on the ground and poured the perfume over his feet. It was broken, smashed in two, it would never hold perfume again. Without a word she stood and swept from the room, through the court yard, out into the street.
Throwing the remains of the alabaster jar onto the ground she gulped in the hot night air, doubling over she wept, she didnโt know what had happened, but something had broken inside of her, broken open like the vial of perfume. She stood up and began to make her way down the street, to where she didnโt know, she couldnโt go back to her house, where a man was most likely waiting.
She sobbed, as she slowly walked down the street. She heard the sound of foot steps behind her and she turned to see who was approaching. The beautiful woman who had been in the dining room hurried towards her and grabbed her hand,
โSister, my name is Maryโ
โMistress, do not touch meโ
โwhy sister? I have things to tell youโ
โplease do not touch me, and do not call me sister, for I am not worthy of the title, I am hetaerae, and a well known one here in Bethany, now please for your names sake leave me beโฆ.โ
The woman stopped as she glanced down at Maryโs out stretched hand, both women wept, for in Maryโs hand was the small shattered remnants of her own alabaster jar.
โYou see sister? His love broke mine as wellโ Imprint
Holding the jar in her hand she strode around the corner and walked through the open door of the house.
Walking through the simple and small courtyard she passed a servant carrying a platter of stuffed pheasant, the smell was delicious, yet she kept walking, she could not afford to be thrown out, time taken to stop was time wasted. Walking through an arch way she stepped into the midst of the dining room, she looked around the room at the faces of the men, some were Pharisees, men that she had known, other men she had seen in passing. But there he was, the man she had come to see, the man she had loved from a distance for โฆ only a little while now. She loved him as these few that were around him had loved him. He looked at her, the word escaped her mouth in a whisper โEmmanuelโ.
She walked silently around the low table to where he was reclining, as she passed various members she heard mutterings of disgrace on their breath. A woman who was breathtakingly beautiful sat towards the corner of the table, she watched her silently, knowingly, she heard one of the men lean towards her and whisper. โMary..โ he had said.
She looked down at his feet, โmy lords feetโ she thought, and saw they were still dusty. Why hadnโt they been washed when heโd walked in? she knelt down at his feet and realized she had no water, no towel, what would she use?
She had failed him, like her whole life had been a failure, and now she knelt before the king with nothing to offer but the gaudy perfume of a hetaerae. She began to weep and her tears fell on his feet, she knelt and kissed where her tears had fallen, as her tears streamed over her masters feet she dried them with her hair, her long curling raven locks that had been a part of her work for so long, the hair that she had hidden under when she gave herself over, now she pressed it to her lords feet as her tears washed away the dust.
He spoke with one of the other men, his tone was scornful, in a moment of insecurity she looked to him, was he angry with her? But the look in his eyes confirmed that he was not. Taking the vial she went sprinkle a few drops over his feet, remembering that she still had to work later that night and would need the perfume, but she stopped and looked at him, he was gazing at her, his eyes talking to her heart, she looked at him, and then looked at the alabaster vial, the symbol of her life, the beacon of her profession. โnever again, you never need to againโ a small voice said within her.
As if her hands operated on their own they smashed the alabaster vial on the ground and poured the perfume over his feet. It was broken, smashed in two, it would never hold perfume again. Without a word she stood and swept from the room, through the court yard, out into the street.
Throwing the remains of the alabaster jar onto the ground she gulped in the hot night air, doubling over she wept, she didnโt know what had happened, but something had broken inside of her, broken open like the vial of perfume. She stood up and began to make her way down the street, to where she didnโt know, she couldnโt go back to her house, where a man was most likely waiting.
She sobbed, as she slowly walked down the street. She heard the sound of foot steps behind her and she turned to see who was approaching. The beautiful woman who had been in the dining room hurried towards her and grabbed her hand,
โSister, my name is Maryโ
โMistress, do not touch meโ
โwhy sister? I have things to tell youโ
โplease do not touch me, and do not call me sister, for I am not worthy of the title, I am hetaerae, and a well known one here in Bethany, now please for your names sake leave me beโฆ.โ
The woman stopped as she glanced down at Maryโs out stretched hand, both women wept, for in Maryโs hand was the small shattered remnants of her own alabaster jar.
โYou see sister? His love broke mine as wellโ Imprint
Publication Date: 03-16-2010
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