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The City of Ten Gates

© Virginia Marin

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One afternoon as I was walking through the woods, I came upon an old man sitting on a stone. Seemingly in a state of meditation, I ventured not to greet him, but as I approached closer to his aura, he invited me to sit and rest. We broke bread together, after which time he related to me this story...

Once there was a beautiful city on a hilltop, called by name Melasurej. Surrounding the city was a wall and in this wall were ten gates. Now each of the gates, having a special name, served a certain purpose to the city. The inhabitants were free to come and go at will. It was such a pleasant place that even the animals seemed to radiate happiness.

Some of the gates served the purpose of assembly of the people, while others served as a passageway in and out of the city for one reason or another. Sometimes the city punished criminals outside of a certain gate. But for what ever reasons the gates stood, they were not guarded during the day nor at nightfall.

Now, how this came to happen is another story, but a citizen of Melasurej, Haimehen by name was living in the court of a Persian king, serving as his royal cupbearer. Haimehen was a very smart fellow, and a man of action. As a man of very few words, he believed in watching, working hard, and praying. He was a good, moral, honest man who was held in high regards by the king.

One day while he was busy going back and forth in the palace, he saw one of his countrymen, a friend, who had just arrived from Melasurej bringing with him a message for the Persian king. Haimehen stopped his friend and asked, "How are things going in the land?"

His friend described to him how the city of Melasurej had fallen into captivity by bandits, and all of its gates, save one, had been burned down by fire. Haimehen became extremely concerned about this report, but offered no platitudes. None of the usual cliches seemed appropriate at the time, so he simply sat down and wept. Then he called out in great effort, "ICHABOD", an exclamation of dismay.

Then Haimehen went to the king and cried, "O king, my master, the city of my fathers and the sepulchers where they are buried lie in waste and the gates are consumed with fire. Please, master, grant me permission to go straight away to Melasurej." So it was granted, and Haimehen left immediately on a difficult journey through dangerous country for the city of his ancestors. The king had provided Haimehen with letters of introduction and explanation to the governors along his route that would give him protection as he traveled through their lands. In time, Haimehen reached the ravished city on the hill, where he set about reviewing the ruins and encouraging the people to rebuilt its walls and gates.

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