Chapter 8The Elf Child and the Minister

Governor Bellingham, rocking a loose gown and comfy cap - that’s just how older guys liked to chill at home - was leading the way, showing off his land and talking about all the cool upgrades he planned.

A huge ruff, way down under his gray beard, like something from King James’s time, made his head look a bit like John the Baptist in a bowl. His look was pretty stiff and serious, like he's been freezing for ages, but it didn’t really match all the fancy stuff he’d clearly put into his place.

It’s a mistake to think our serious ancestors - even though they saw life as a tough test and were ready to give up anything for what they believed - felt bad about enjoying the good things in life, or even a little luxury, if it was available.

Pastor John Wilson, the respected clergyman whose white beard peeked out behind Governor Bellingham, didn't preach that way either. He was talking about how pears and peaches could grow here, and maybe even purple grapes on a sunny wall.

Raised in the wealthy English Church, the old pastor had a real taste for the good life. Even though he could be strict from the pulpit, or when calling out someone like Hester Prynne, his kind heart in private earned him way more love than any of his fellow preachers.

Behind the Governor and Mr. Wilson came two other guests: Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale, who you might remember from Hester Prynne’s public shaming; and Roger Chillingworth, an older dude who was a really skilled doctor and had been living in town for a few years.

Everyone knew this smart guy was both the doctor and a friend to the young minister, who's been seriously run down lately from working way too hard as a pastor. The Governor, ahead of his guests, went up a few steps and opened the big window to the hall. He spotted little Pearl right away.

The curtain’s shadow fell on Hester Prynne, partly hiding her. Who’s this? said Governor Bellingham, surprised by the little girl in red. Seriously, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything like it, not even back in King James’s time, when I thought it was a big deal to get into a fancy mask ball!

There were always tons of these tiny figures during the holidays; we called them the children of the Lord of Misrule. But how did this little guest get in my hall? "Wow!" said good old Mr. Wilson. "What’s this little bird with scarlet feathers?

It reminds me of figures I’ve seen when the sun shone through a stained-glass window, making golden and crimson patterns on the floor. But that was back in the old country. Hey, kiddo, what's your name and why is your mom dressing you up like this? Are you a Christian kid - huh?

"Do you know your catechism? Or are you one of those naughty elves or fairies, which we thought we’d left behind in merry old England, along with all the other stuff from Papistry? "I’m my mom’s kid," said the little girl in red, "and my name is Pearl!"

Pearl? - Ruby, more like! - or Coral! - or Red Rose, at the very least, looking at your color! responded the old minister, reaching out to pat little Pearl on the cheek, but missing. But where’s your mom? Oh!

I see," he added, turning to Governor Bellingham and whispering, "This is the kid we talked about; and look, there’s the mom, Hester Prynne, her mother! "Really?" cried the Governor. "We probably figured a kid like that would have a mom who’s a scarlet woman, a real icon!

But she’s showing up at a good time; we’ll sort this out ASAP. Governor Bellingham stepped through the window into the hall, followed by his three guests. "Hester Prynne," he said, looking directly at the person wearing the scarlet letter, "there’s been a lot of talk about you lately.

We’re trying to figure out if we’re doing the right thing by letting an immortal soul, like the kid, be raised by someone who’s messed up. Speak up, the child’s mom! Don’t you think it’s best for your little one to be taken away, dressed nicely, and taught proper manners and good values?

"What can you even offer the child? "I can teach my little Pearl what I’ve learned from this!" answered Hester Prynne, pointing to the red symbol. "Woman, it’s your mark of shame!" replied the stern magistrate. "It’s because of what that letter means that we want to give your child to someone else."

"Still," said the mom, calmly, though she was getting paler, "this badge has taught me - it's teaching me every day - it's teaching me right now - lessons that might help my kid, even if they don't help me at all. "We’ll be careful," said Bellingham. "Let’s really think about what we’re doing."

"Good Master Wilson, could you check out Pearl - that's her name - and see if she’s been raised like a normal kid should?" The old minister sat down in a comfy chair and tried to pull Pearl onto his lap.

But the kid, not used to being touched or close to anyone but her mom, slipped out the window and stood on the top step. She looked like a crazy-cool tropical bird, with bright feathers, ready to fly away.

Mr. Wilson was pretty surprised - he was a grandpa type and usually a huge hit with kids - but he still tried to examine her. "Pearl," he said seriously, "you gotta pay attention so that one day you can wear the pearl of great price. Can you tell me, sweetie, who made you?"

Now Pearl totally knew who made her. Hester Prynne, who came from a super religious family, had already started telling her all about her Heavenly Father. Pearl, seriously, for a three-year-old, was already way ahead.

She could’ve aced a test on the New England Primer, or even the first part of the Westminster Catechisms - even though she's never actually seen either. But that kid energy, you know? Pearl had a ton of it. And right at the worst possible time, it took over.

She wouldn’t answer questions, or she’d just blurt out something random. After sticking her finger in her mouth and refusing to answer Mr. Wilson, she finally said she hadn't been made - her mom just plucked her from the rose bush by the prison.

That probably came from seeing the Governor’s red roses, since she was standing by the window. Plus, she remembered the rose bush outside the prison on her way here. Old Roger Chillingworth, with a sly smile, whispered something to the young minister.

Hester Prynne glanced at the doctor, and even though her whole future was on the line, she was shocked by how much he’d changed. He looked so much worse - his face was darker, and he seemed more twisted than she remembered.

She caught his eyes for a second, then forced herself to focus on what was happening.

"This is seriously messed up!" the Governor exclaimed, still reeling from Pearl’s response. "A three-year-old, and she doesn’t even know who her parent is! No question, she's clueless about her soul, how bad things are now, and what's gonna happen down the road! Honestly, I think we're done here."

Hester grabbed Pearl and pulled her close, facing the old Puritan official with a pretty intense look. Alone in the world, rejected by everyone, and with this one kid keeping her going, she felt like she had every right to protect her - and she was ready to fight for it.

"God gave me this kid!" she cried. "He gave her back to me for everything else you all took! She’s my happiness! - She’s also a total pain, though! Pearl keeps me alive! Pearl also punishes me! Don’t you see?"

"She’s like the scarlet letter, only capable of being loved, and with a million times more power to make me pay for my sin! You’re not taking her! I’ll die first! "My poor woman," the kind old minister said, "the child will be taken care of! - Better than you could do it, for sure!"

"God gave her to me! Hester Prynne repeated, her voice almost a scream. "I’m not giving her up! And then, without thinking, she turned to the young preacher, Mr. Dimmesdale, who she’d barely even looked at until now. "Say something for me!" she cried.

"You were my pastor, you knew my soul, and you know me better than these guys do. I’m not losing my kid! Say something for me! You get it - you’re empathetic, unlike these men!"

"- You know what's in my heart, what a mom’s rights are, and how much stronger they are when a mom’s got nothing but her kid and the scarlet letter! You tell them! I’m not losing my kid! You tell them!"

At this crazy, one-of-a-kind plea, which made it seem like Hester Prynne was totally losing it, the young minister stepped forward right away. He was pale, clutching his heart - that was just how he was, always getting worked up.

He looked even more worn down and thin than we remembered from when Hester was publicly shamed. Whether it was his health or something else, his big, dark eyes held a ton of pain, all troubled and sad.

"She’s telling the truth," the minister started, his voice soft, shaky, but strong enough to echo in the hall - the armor even rang with it. "What Hester says is true, and the feeling behind it is real too!"

"God gave her the child, and He also gave her this weird, natural understanding of what it needs - something no one else has. Plus, isn’t there something seriously sacred about the bond between this mom and her kid? "Yeah, how's that?" the Governor cut in. "Lay it out for us, please!"

"It has to be this way," the minister started again. "Because, if we think otherwise, aren't we basically saying the Heavenly Father, the one who made everything, didn't care about a sin? Like, He doesn’t see a big difference between bad desires and real love?"

This kid, who comes from her dad’s mistake and her mom’s embarrassment, came from God’s hands, to change her heart in so many ways. The woman who’s begging so hard, with so much pain, has a right to keep her. It was meant to be a blessing; the only real blessing in her life!

"She told us it was meant to be payback, too - a constant ache, a sting, a never-ending pain mixed with happiness! Doesn’t she show it through this poor kid, who reminds us of that mark on her chest? "You got it, again! Mr. Wilson chimed in. "I was worried she’d just turn her kid into a show."

"Oh, no! - Not at all!" Mr. Dimmesdale went on. "She knows, believe me, that God did something amazing by bringing this kid into the world."

And I think she feels - and I really think it’s true - that this gift was meant, above all else, to keep her soul alive and stop her from falling into even worse sin, the kind Satan might try to pull her into!

That's why it’s good for this poor, sinful woman to have a child, someone who can feel eternal happiness or sadness, and who she has to take care of.

Someone who can be raised to do good, who will remind her of her mistake every time, but who also teaches her - like a promise from the Creator - that if she brings the child to heaven, the child will bring her there too! In that way, the sinful mother is actually happier than the sinful father.

"So, for Hester Prynne’s sake, and for the kid’s sake, let’s leave them where Providence has put them!"

"You’re talking with a lot of intensity, my friend," said old Roger Chillingworth, smiling at him. "And there’s a lot of weight to what my younger brother said," added Reverend Wilson. "What do you think, Master Bellingham? Doesn’t he make a good case for the poor woman?"

"He definitely does," answered the magistrate. "He made such good points, we’ll leave things as they are - for now, at least. As long as there’s no more drama with the woman. We need to make sure the kid gets regular catechism lessons, either from you or Master Dimmesdale."

"Plus, when the time’s right, the tithing-men need to make sure she goes to school and church."

The young minister stopped talking and stepped back a bit from the group, his face hidden behind the thick curtains. The sunlight cast a shaky shadow of his figure on the floor, showing how intense his appeal had been.

Pearl, that little wild thing, tiptoed over to him and grabbed his hand with both of hers, then pressed her cheek against it. It was such a sweet, quiet touch that her mom, watching, wondered, "Is that even my Pearl?"

She knew there was love in the child’s heart, even if it usually showed up as passion, and she’s barely seen her be this gentle, like, twice in her whole life.

The minister - because, let’s be real, nothing’s sweeter than a kid showing you spontaneous love, a real sign you’re worth loving - looked around, put his hand on the child’s head, paused for a second, and kissed her forehead.

Pearl’s sudden sentimental mood didn't last long; she laughed and skipped down the hall, so light she practically floated. Old Mr. Wilson even wondered if her toes even touched the floor. "That little kid’s got witchcraft in her, I swear," he said to Mr. Dimmesdale.

"She doesn’t need an old lady’s broomstick to fly! "A strange kid," remarked old Roger Chillingworth. "You can totally see her mom in her. Do you think it’s within a philosopher’s research, guys, to figure out what makes that kid tick and guess who her dad is?"

"Nah; it’s wrong to use complicated thinking about this," said Mr. Wilson. "It’s better to skip a meal and pray about it. Even better, maybe just leave the mystery alone, unless God shows us something. That way, any good Christian can show kindness to a poor, abandoned baby."

"After things wrapped up so well, Hester Prynne and Pearl left the house. As they went down the steps, someone said a window upstairs opened, and Mistress Hibbins’ face popped out into the sunny day. She was Governor Bellingham’s grumpy sister, and later, she was executed as a witch. "Psst, psst!

she said, and her face looked kinda creepy, like it was dimming the house's bright newness. You coming with us tonight? There’s gonna be a fun group in the forest. I almost promised the Black Man that Hester Prynne would be there. Tell him I can’t make it, okay? Hester said with a smug smile.

"I gotta stay home and watch my little Pearl. If they’d taken her from me, I’d have gone with you into the forest and signed my name in the Black Man’s book - even with my own blood! "You’ll be there soon!" the witch-lady snapped, pulling her head back.

But here - if we think this chat between Mistress Hibbins and Hester Prynne really happened, and it wasn’t just a story - it showed how the young minister felt about keeping a mom and her kid together, even if the mom messed up. Even then, the child had saved her from the devil’s trap.