MicroHorror

She was so beautiful–so very, very, beautiful. What father would not do all he could to protect her? And so Dioscorus built a high tower and forbade anyone to enter except for himself and one maidservant.

Barbara grew more beautiful year on year but only her father saw it. He was determined that none should sully his daughter. The slobbering youths he saw outside his walls were all unworthy of her charms. He only… only he could love her as she deserved.

She escaped once but was discovered and brought back. Found by some good shepherd and penned.

Susanna brought her food and comfort and also a catechism and told her that her father was wrong to keep her thus locked up for his own pleasure. Dioscorus found the book and was furious for he was a committed pagan. He forbade her to pray.

But when he went away on business, Barbara had a third window put in the tower to represent the Holy Spirit. She swore it was a miracle sent from God. Did she really believe or was this the only voice she could put to her despair?

Her father’s fury now reached greater heights. He denounced her. She was imprisoned once again and this time at the mercy of strangers. Perhaps Dioscorus suspected she was no longer his alone. Sent before the prefect of the province, Barbara was condemned to burn.

Her gaolers had never seen such beauty and they swore that when they’d tried to burn her they found she would not burn. Every time they tried their torches would extinguish, so they said. And so once more she was kept alive. Surely another blessed miracle…

At length she was released back to her father who decided to carry out the death sentence himself. He took Barbara up to a high mountaintop and there he hacked her head off with his sword.

On the way down the mountain, God struck the pagan sword with a lightning bolt. Thus it is told did Barbara become the Saint of all who work with fire or explosives, because she would not burn, while her father was consumed by fire.

One might perhaps observe it was a pity God wasn’t “ahead of the game.” Then again perhaps the making of saints just excuses the worst excesses of man and has nothing whatever to do with God. At any rate Barbara’s story is no longer considered authentic and so the 4th of December is no longer her official saint’s day.

Who knows the brief brutality of the life that Barbara led?

One thing I have discovered. You excavate the story. You examine the finds. Sometimes you hear the distant echo of a scream. But history and legend are written by the victors. Thereafter it’s the archaeology of interpretation.