Crises of Faith

I tell those who will listen that this affliction is the damnation of God laid upon us for our sins. Yet when I examine my conscience, and the conduct of those around me, I cannot conceive what crimes could merit such a punishment as the one now visited upon the world. Still, it should not astonish me that many, seeing no deliverance from our Christian God, have begun to turn their eyes elsewhere. The Metivier family, for instance, have not been seen for several weeks. Rumour has it that after the death of their youngest child they fled into the forest and now belong to some strange sect that dwells there. It is said they believe - or persuade themselves to believe - that some ancient spirit of the woods will purge the land of the Hunger, provided that certain rites are performed often enough and with sufficient devotion. I once thought the Metiviers sensible people, but grief has a way of bending the mind. When a man finds himself powerless before loss and disorder, he will seize upon any illusion that promises him a measure of control. Yet, from what I have heard whispered of other gatherings, this woodland order may prove the gentlest of the new heresies. Only a few days past, upon returning from a miserable excursion in search of food, I found four women huddled within the church. As I drew nearer I saw that three of them had been deprived of one eye, while the fourth had been blinded entirely. Their speech was confused and broken, yet from what little I could gather they claimed to be fleeing from something called the Gentle Mother, who had punished them thus for their sins. The Blessed Virgin of Holy Scripture would never sanction such cruelty, and it pains me deeply that some wicked company should dare to invoke her name in justification of it. The women did not remain long. They wandered away again before nightfall, though how they expect to survive in their condition I cannot imagine. May God - if He still hears us - show them mercy.