Vickey Stamp's Bio:I am a retired nurse and writer, a wife, mother and great grandmother to 13.    I knit and crochet, along with embroider and try to draw simplistic things.  I make and give away cloth dolls as I am able to little ones with cancer and other devastating diseases. 

I was baptised at age 9.  I love the Lord.  I have lived in California most of my life.I have a brother in Texas fighting for almost 2 years now, his 4th and worse battle with cancer.

I have written about 400 different things over the past 50 years, some lost and a few remaining.

"Surely my garment must be of the finest cotton to be found" Spoke the young actor, chosen to star in the story of The Christ, soon to be presented live upon a great stage in the large city. "It should be partly of silk so it will drape nicely as I walk about upon the stage. It will not do for such a role for me, to have less than the very best. It should have no dust upon it, and freshly cleaned, or I will not wear it. No less will do! Having said so, the actor walked away from she who minded the wardrobe department at the theatre of stars. "What" she wondered "Am I to do about this situation?" She only had a couple of months before the play would take place during the time of Easter. She'd pray about it. Surely an answer would come.

The time for the Easter play was almost there. She had purchased for the theatre company, lengths of a fine white cotton and silk mixed fabric. She had gone to the finest dressmaker in the city, and had a robe made for the star that would play the Christ in the upcoming play. It didn't feel right to her, but she was only the manager of the clothing for different plays and must do as she was told.

She had prayed but no answers had come her way, only a sense of uneasiness about the attitude of the actor regarding the robe. Something about it just felt wrong. She had taken down her Bible, reading all about the Christ, about the journeys He had made, the healing He had brought about. He had not been a vain man, but a humble one. A woman who had been sick for many years hand had reached out, as the Christ passed. She had wanted not to disrupt Him but to touch the hem of His garment. Surely that would bring her a healing no physician had been able to bring about. The Christ had turned and in compassion had healed her. She searched deep in the images within her mind trying to picture how the robe must have looked. Surely it had been made of cotton, and there being no means to keep a robe clean along the journeys, it must surely have carried its share of dust and perhaps a ring of it upon the hem.

Only hours to go now and there came to the director a phone call. The actor to be the Christ had fallen and broken a leg. His understudy would have to take over. While somewhat similar in looks, their stature was different and the robe of cotton and silk hung in the wrong fashion upon the new man to play the Christ. "I've got it!" He spoke in an excited manner. "I remember seeing a robe from a Christmas play. Let's see if we can find it. Finally at last in the Christmas department, deep in an old chest, was pulled forward a Shepherd's cloak of white. While it was dingy, it was white. A soft ring of dirt lay about the hem of the garment, for a shepherd served and protected his flock, in areas of both dirt and grass.

The play progressed, as the wardrobe department manager watched from the sidelines. Now the story had advanced to where the Christ knelt upon and against a large rock, in prayer to His father. "If it be Thy will, let this cup pass from me." It was almost time for the crucifixion yet ahead.

There were those who spoke together as the play finished, and as they mingled outside the theatre. "What a dramatic impact the white robe made upon he, who had played the role of the Christ, and the image it portrayed to the eyes of the watchers. They had looked upon the dusty robe, and felt the dust of their own sins and felt humility, as if they had themselves walked upon the path beside the Christ. How strange the lighting that touched down upon Him as he had prayed and called out to His father. A brilliance of light had seemed the touch his robe and lightens it, to drape it in softness as if it were made of the purest silk. They wondered where the wardrobe person was, and would it be possible to congratulate her on her wise choice of costumes.

The cotton fibers of the robe, now returned to its chest with the other garments of Christmas, smiled to itself and remembered its rich history, back to over 2000 years ago, when its ancestors of cotton fields, had evolved by the looms of mankind to become fabric of cotton linen. The true Christ had worn it to teach of His father. The cotton knew…..

Life was good.

© Vickey Stamps