There is more than one book, of course, that I want to take.  There are boxes of books I want to take, but most of them are with the Spiritual Center in mind.

There are a few, not many, that I want to take for myself or for long evenings to read aloud on the Oneness Journey.

Here’s one of them:

The Canterbury Tales of Geoffrey Chaucer, Special Edition for Young Readers, Illustrated by Gustaf Tenggren.

There is one story called Patient Griselda.  It is the Clerk’s Tale. I used to read this story out loud to my seventh graders. It would drive them wild. It would drive you wild. It drove me wild. It’s one of those stories that just gets under your skin, and you want to go in and change it.

Here’s the beginning. It’s innocent enough:

“There is a province called Saluzzo in the western part of Italy, where you can still see towers and towns build a great many years ago. A duke once was lord of that land, as his father had been before him.  He lived an easy and happy life, beloved and obeyed by all the people of the country, both lords and common people. This young lord’s name was Walter. He was fair and young and strong, honorable and courteous, and, for the most part, wise. In some respects, however, he wasn’t as wise as he might have been, for he gave little thought to the future. He cared only for the pleasures of the moment, giving all his energy to hawking and hunting. He let just about everything else slide. Worst of all, he would not consider taking a wife on any account.”

Can’t you tell what a great storyteller Chaucer is?

You have already probably guessed that the duke does marry.

As the duke chooses his bride, it is Griselda, Patient Griselda. This is what the duke asks of Griselda, a commoner, if she wishes to be his wife:

“Are you ready to do cheerfully whatever I wish, so that I may always act as seems best to me? Can I make you either happy or unhappy without your ever grumbling at any time? Will you, when I say ‘yea’ never say ‘nay’ either by words or frowns. Swear to this, and I swear you shall be my wife.”

At this point, seventh graders were up in arms, calling out, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!”

Then, after the wedding, the duke tests Patient Griselda. Not in little things, but in big things, like taking her children away presumably to be killed.  The duke would lie to Griselda. He would say the townspeople were opposed to an heir to the throne born of a commoner mother etc.

Patient Griselda responds cheerfully: “Whatever you desire is, of course, my desire, as it has always been…Just as I left behind my old clothes, I left behind my will and freedom. I will gladly do anything that will please you. I would gladly die even if that would please you. Death is not so important as your love.”

At this point, the kids can hardly stay in their seats and are ready to kill Patient Griselda themselves.

At the end of the story, everything is hunky-dory because the duke explains that he was only testing Griselda.

At this point, the kids and I, especially the girls, are ready to riot.

What would you expect of red-blooded American womanhood?