An allegorical story: The Woman in White

A woman dressed in white sits patiently upon a solitary chair in the foyer of an empty house. Her face is aglow and a smile graces her lovely features. She is the epitome of radiance and one looking at her cannot help but wonder what she is smiling about.

Every so often she glances at the clock, set within the expanse of a white wall-- she appears to be waiting for something. She looks down at her lap. Encircling her ring finger on her left hand sit’s a glorious diamond, gleaming and casting small reflections of light against the wall. She is engaged, promised to a life-long marriage, and if the smile on her face indicates anything, he must be a special man.

Time continues to pass and gradually, the woman appears to be getting more and more anxious. Slowly, the smile takes up less room on her face and she is playing with the solitaire on her hand. The reason for her impatience is that she is waiting for the arrival of her beloved. He promised he would come get her one day soon and they would live together forever in perfect love. Still, she is still waiting because he has not yet arrived.

The bride-to-be stands up from her chair and begins to pace-- slowly at first, then with increasing irritation in her footfall. Her steps bring her to the window where she stares out to the street, hoping she might see her groom-to-be making his way to get her. There is no sign or him.

The woman in white considers going back to her chair and sitting. He had promised he would come, why should she doubt? Yet, impatience getting the better of her, she continues to look out onto the street, hoping and praying her lover would soon round the corner.

Minutes pass and still there is no sign of the man she so desperately wants to be with. The woman is about to burst into a fit of tears when, suddenly, she sees a form sauntering down the road towards her house. A joy begins to rise within her chest, but it quickly is smothered when she realizes it is not the one she is waiting for.

However, the figure, who she realizes is a man, continues to her front door and softly knock. It is an inviting knock, baiting her to answer the door. Confusion fills her heart and she wonders what this stranger could want. The knocking continues and the words of her promised come to her memory. Words warning against the danger of answering the door for anyone but him.

Yet, she is lonely and impatient. What harm could there be to simply open the door to see what the visitor wants? He would soon be on his way with no harm done.

So, ignoring the warning that was playing over and over again in her heart, the woman goes to the door and sets a delicate hand on the knob. She opens the door, just a couple inches at first, then wider to set her eyes upon the visitor outside.

A handsome man stands on the front steps. He is darkly attractive-- though not at all the same type of attractiveness that her lover carried. His is a more sinister allure, not the purity or perfection she should be back on her chair waiting for.

The stranger smiles smoothly, asking to be let in. The warning in her heart is beating more intensely than ever now and she instinctively knows the man should be left outside in the night. Despite this though, she opens her door wider and steps aside as she allows him in. What harm could come from innocent conversation while she waited?
She should have known there would be harm.

The stranger’s charm, good looks, smooth words and seemingly good intent are soon the undoing of her as she allows the “short visit” to rob her of all purity she had been saving for the one who was coming to get her. And as the man leaves, she lies on the floor, tears streaming down makeup-stained cheeks onto a soiled dress that was no longer white. Her radiance left her the moment she allowed herself to open the front door.

She knew better. She should have never let the man in. The woman wanted to blame her condition on the one who, in her mind, should have been there hours ago. Yet, she knew all the blame laid with her. Only she is responsible for allowing herself to be in her state, a crumpled sight in soiled white, laying on the floor next to the chair she should have stayed sitting in.

The time begins to blur as she lays weak and distressed--- so much so, that she doesn’t notice when the front door opens once again and in He walks. The one who should have been there to prevent her shame.

As she opens her eyes, she finds herself staring into the face of her beloved. Embarrassment envelopes her being as she sees intense hurt, betrayal and pain flash across his face as he realizes what has happened. The woman turns her face away and braces herself for what surely will be accusations from the mouth of her hurt lover.

She braces herself for nothing, though, for while her face is turned and she wallows in her great humiliation, she misses the incredible change of His facial expressions. She misses the insurmountable love, compassion, and total acceptance that comes over his features as does a veil. She barely notices as the man picks up and holds her tightly.

As he does, something incredible happens. While dwelling in his arms, while absorbing his unconditional loving kindness, she is physically transformed. Suddenly, her dress is once again white and her body is whole and well. The love of her husband-to-be has completely renewed her and as she comes to, her mind is wiped clean of all previous memories.
She is everything a bride should be once again.

She is helped to her feet, all the while her eyes consumed by the face of her lover. Then, in complete love and appreciation for each other, they walk hand-in-hand towards the door and towards a new future. As the door is opened for the final time, they are greeted by the light of a brand new day.