Week 4 Story: Martyrs Imprisonned

Sitting in the cold, damp prison cell, the last thing I expected to hear was a baby's cry. At first I thought my ears were deceiving me, but the more I listened, the more sure I became that it was a baby in the prison. I strained my ears to hear more, and identified a woman, cooing at the baby to calm it down.
"Can you shut that thing up?" a guard shouted. I didn't hear a response.
Moments later, I saw the small family being marched through the prison, and they were locked away into the cell just across from my own. The mother, though she looked tired and unkempt, was obviously beautiful. It was almost as if a light radiated from her, and I felt drawn to know her. Though she was locked away in her cell, I wanted to run into her arms and have her protect me just as fiercely as she protectively held the babe wrapped in her arms.
"We'll be back for you two tonight,"the guard said. "Don't get too comfortable."
I sat quietly in my cell, staring at the woman. I was torn: waning to call out to her, but not knowing what to say.
"Miss," she whispered. "Do you have any water you could spare? My child and I have had nothing to drink for so long. I'm afraid he won't stop crying until I can feed him."
I found the water in my cell, placed as far towards her as I could, before gently pushing it across the floor.
"Thank you, my dear. What is your name?"
"Livia."
"I am Juliet and this is my son Quirinus. Why are you here? You are so young!"
"My parents were caught leading a worship ceremony of the god Bacchus within the city walls. I am being held until relatives come to take me away while my parents serve their time."
"I see." Juliet was quiet a while. "I hope your parents find the right path." I didn't know what she meant exactly, but I nodded.
"Why are you here? What could you have done?"
Juliet sighed, and looked down at her baby. "Officials demanded that I make sacrifices to their gods. But I cannot. There is only one true god, and I must worship only Him. No matter what happens in this life, I cannot jeopardize the eternal life of me and my child."
"What is the name of your god?"
"Names are not important when there is only one."
I couldn't understand why Juliet was doing this. What is the harm of sacrificing to one god when you can then just sacrifice to another? This god of hers seemed awful selfish.
"Why would you sacrifice your future? Just appease the officials."
"Livia, let me tell you a story. There was once a man who was told to do just as you have suggested I do. Stop doing what He believes in to appease mortal governments and institutions. But He understood that there are more important things than mortality."
As Juliet told me the story of this man, I was amazed by his miracles, his strength, and love.
"When He died on the cross," Juliet said solemnly, "He died for everyone. But we must stay true to Him, and never betray Him by worshiping or sacrificing to other gods. It's a small price to pay for eternal life. And if I should die for it, I am confident that he will bring me safely to Heaven."
"Juliet and son," a guard called. His heavy steps began getting louder as he walked through the prison towards my new friend.
"It is my time, Livia. Be strong. I hope you find the correct path."
As I watched Juliet and her baby taken from the cell and marched away, I was amazed at how I could have known her for so little time, but feel so connected to her.
In that moment I prayed for her, her baby, myself, and those who feel so lost. I'm not sure who I was praying to, but I felt certain someone was listening.

Prison cell of Saint Paul in Rome.
Photo by Edith OSB Source: Flickr

Author's Note: This story is based on the story of Saint Juliet. During the Roman empire, she is told she must make sacrifices to Roman gods. When she refuses, they torture her. The baby seeing his mother tortured, tells the provost that he is Christian. He throws the baby down on the steps. Seeing her child killed, she is happy to know that he is in heaven. They then kill Juliet herself. 

My story takes place before her torture. I imagined that before her torture, she would have been imprisoned. Even in her last hours, knowing that this cannot end well, she would still be hopeful, and have the desire to comfort others with the good news of Jesus. The story is told through the eyes of my imaginary other prisoner. 

Bibliography:  Saint Juliet. The Golden Legend edited by F. S. Ellis (1900).