Sunset in Paradise

By Paula Freda

An Inspirational Tale (a story of the First Saint Canonized by Christ Himself) based on Biblical references and historical legends associated with Dismas, the Third Thief (patron of prisoners) who was crucified alongside Christ. Paula Freda presents a fictional-historical spiritual tale of an ordinary man on a path to hell, but saved by Christ. Many cultures and legends place Dismas at several crucial moments in the life of Christ. A romanticized, spiritual tale of a man and his Savior.
Excerpt:
The child's gaze rested on the three wise men, for that was what they must be, Dismas surmised, astrologists perhaps, or emissaries from kingly courts. The mother of the baby thanked them with a smile so beautiful, so filled with peace and benevolence, that Dismas held his breath. The father thanked them as well for himself, and his wife, Mary. So that was her name ― Mary. Yes, it fit her.
Of all three gifts, he appreciated the gold the most. It would buy the family food, and shelter, and wool and cotton for clothing. But it was a dangerous gift to give a family on the move. He thought of Gestas and the other thieves. For sure, word of what was transpiring would reach their ears. He felt afraid for this beautiful child, and the sweet lady and kindly man.
His gaze moved to the child, and as if it felt his fear, the baby's gaze met his. Dismas blamed the long hours he had spent on foot the past hours for the sudden haziness he felt, and the thought that entered his mind unbidden. Kind spirit, protect us on our journeys. My time has not come yet."
Dismas shook his head to clear it. He needed to rest before he began his journey back to the cave where his companions hid. He determined to say nothing of what he had witnessed. Hopefully, by the time word of mouth reached his companions, this holy family would be well out of their thieving region.
Haim also had entered the stable and was on his knees, his eyes fixed adoringly upon the child. Dismas withdrew so that others could pay homage. He waited outside and when Haim finally rejoined him, his face was radiant with joy.
"I must return to my sheep, but tonight I know is the beginning of new era. I may not live to see its outcome, but my heart is filled with hope." He clasped Dismas' shoulder warmly. "Will you return with me?"
Dismas shook his head. "I'm tired and hungry. The hunger I can stave off for another few hours, but the tiredness in my bones, even at my young age, that I need to deal with now. Perhaps the family won't mind if curl up in the corner of the stable out of view of the visitors and the landlord." He did not dwell on the other reason, at least not in his conscious mind, that he wished to remain near this precious family for a little while longer, because the child had asked him....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paula Freda
• Release date: Jul 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476120096

Paula Freda

About the Author Dorothy Paula Freda, is also known under her pen names Paula Freda and Marianne Dora Rose. Her books range from Fiction and Non-fiction Adventure, Romance, Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Poetry, Articles, Essays and How-to-Write Instructional complete with Lessons and optional assignments. Homemaker, mother of two grown sons, and former off-the-desk publisher of a family-oriented print small press, (1984 thru 1999), The Pink Chameleon, that she now publishes on line, Paula was raised by her grandmother and mother, and has been writing for as long as she can remember. Even before she could set pencil to paper, she would spin her stories in the recording booths in the Brooklyn Coney Island Arcades for a quarter per 3-minute record. She states, "I love the English language, love words and seeing them on display, typed and alive. A romantic at heart, I write simply and emotionally. One of my former editors kindly described my work, '...her pieces are always deep, gentle and refreshing....'" Paula further states, "My stories are sensitive, deeply emotional, sensual when appropriate, yet non-graphic, family fare, pageturners. My hope is that my writing will bring entertainment and uplift the human spirit, bring a smile to your face and your soul, and leave you filled with a generous amount of hope."

Book preview

Sunset in Paradise

by Paula Freda

Smashwords Edition

Copyright July 21, 2012

by Dorothy P. Freda

(Pseudonym - Paula Freda)

Bookcover front & back Licensed photos - iStockphoto.com

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof.

Except for documented biblical passages, references and legends, the names, characters, places and incidents in this book are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

DEDICATION

+

JMJ

With thanks to my Dear Lord Jesus and his Blessed Mother Mary whose strength, guidance, and her Holy Rosary, are my anchor in this troubled world, and to Saint Joseph, and my guardian angels, guides and protectors.

I dedicate this book to my husband, Domenick, whose love, patience and kindness over the past 40 years have kept my dreams and view of the romantic alive and vibrant.

Paula Freda

SUNSET IN PARADISE

by

Paula Freda

CHAPTER ONE

The high pitched call of a small desert bird passing overhead stirred the sleeping young man. Lambs bleating as they followed their mothers wove into his dreams of tables laid out with meats and nuts and fruits, and olives marinating in fine oils, all there for him and his brother.

The rude clanging of bells that hung around the neck of the flock's lead wether led by a shepherd youth jarred and shook him awake. He hugged tighter the decaying fibers of the coarse woolen cloak that barely covered his thin lanky form.

In the center of the mountainside cave the meager firewood had burned to a crisp and no longer gave warmth. That would now be the work of the Sun as it began its ascent into the whitening sky.

Dismas hated sunrise. It brought him back to another day of belly aching hunger. Another day of scavenging and thieving with his companions, hungry like himself. His body ached from his bed of dry stony earth, and though only seventeen years of age, he felt more like an old man with brittle aching bones and parched throat. His hunger impelled him to sit up. Further in, slept his brother and the older members of their band of five thieves.

Gestas, their leader, and the others, were already awake, sitting on their heels, crouched in a circle, whispering among themselves as they counted the coins they had robbed from a lone traveler unfortunate enough to have crossed their path late last night. The man had been a stranger to these parts, so there had been no need to kill him, as he would not be able to identify them, although he might already have died from the blows that Gestas had delivered with no remorse.

Jehiel had intervened in time to possibly save the stranger's life, warning that killing him might bring the stranger's kin back asking questions, or seeking revenge. The real reason for his intervention was too charitable for the others to understand. But Dismas knew his brother's weakness. He had his mother's heart and her gentleness, though he hid it well. Dismas, himself, had no memory of his parents. His mother had died giving birth to him, and his father had died shortly after of a desert fever. Both he and five-year-old Jehiel had been sold into slavery to a rich merchant. The merchant had appointed one of his slave women to rear them until they were old enough to handle hard labor, and then sold them to a wealthy farmer. There had not been much love lost parting from the slave woman. During the few years under her care she had been cold and aloof, doing only what was absolutely necessary. She had told them on the very first day, that she had no desire to develop any closeness which might cause her distress when they were resold.

Yet despite her aloofness, Dismas had grown from babyhood under her care and in his childhood ignorance had called her Mother. Perhaps Dismas the baby had awakened some maternal caring in the slave woman, for she had allowed him to call her mother, although she had never acknowledged any affection to either him or his brother.

Hard labor had proved the appropriate description for working in the farmer's orchards and grain fields, pushing and pulling heavy loads of olives, collecting and stacking bundles of wheat, picking fruits from the trees in the farmer's orchards, and loading them by the bushels into open carts ready for the market. They knew hunger and illness, yet they survived, when so many others didn't.

When Dismas was fourteen, a new slave was brought in, Gestas, belligerent and defiant. The more the slave master beat him and starved him, the more defiant and combatant he grew. Finally, uncontrollable, he was sold to a Master Gladiator for use in the arena. But on the evening before the actual transfer, Gestas, Jehiel and Dismas managed to escape to the mountains where they hid. They never stayed long in one place. Gestas was resourceful and ingenious. Jehiel idolized him. Dismas followed where his brother went, but he did not see Gestas as a hero; rather a man whose desperation for freedom was equal to his obsession for power, even if it was only to lead a gang of thieves.

There were days when Dismas wished they had never met Gestas, and evenings when he would leave the cave and wander over the lands where sheep and goats grazed. During one of those sojourns he had befriended a local shepherd, a young man of his own age, named Haim.

Dismas rose to his feet and strode over to the cloistered group of men. He waited for one of them to address him. Jehiel beckoned to him and he drew near enough to catch the coin his brother tossed him. Enough for a small loaf of unleavened bread. Dismas knew better than to ask for more. He knew what Gestas or the other two would reply. If you want more, go steal it. Apparently today they had no plans for robbery as a band and it was every man for himself.

Dismas put the coin inside the fold of his girder and slipped out of the cave.

It was a clear, hot day, and the marketplace was crowded. The acrid smell of perspiring bodies and the dry musty smell of grains and a variety of dried beans, mixed non