A Fiction Prose Reflection, Book V of XI
byChrisWhite – 2025
On the Series:
This series weaves together the eleven cardinal virtues: Hope, Charity, Prudence, Kindness, Faith, Love, Temperance, Fortitude, Wisdom, Patience, and Justice, through a synthesis of literary prose and poetry. Each reflection reaches into the marrow of human experience, drawing on both original verse and timeless lines from poets who gave voice to the sacred. The fifth installment turns to Faith, not as doctrine or dogma, but as an act of persistence when there is no proof left to touch.
The house had not been dusted in months. A film of ash clung to the mantle, the old photographs leaned slightly askew, and the Bible on the table lay shut, unread, but not forgotten. In the kitchen, a woman named Marla boiled water for tea, her hands shaking only slightly now.
Her husband had died in spring.
Her son left in fall.
And winter came early that year.
Still she folded the same laundry.
Still she poured two cups.
Still she opened the blinds before the sun had the strength to show itself.
And when asked why, she simply said:
“Because one day, someone might come back.”
That was Faith. Not the kind you preach from pulpits, but the kind that holds your breath through a thousand unanswered prayers. Not the firebrand of certainty, but the quiet, daily act of not giving up.
“Faith is the bird that feels the light
and sings when the dawn is still dark.”
—Rabindranath Tagore
It does not shout.
Faith is not the speaker’s fire or the sword held aloft…
It is the voice that stays when all others fall silent—
—Chris White, The Virtue of Faith
People came by less and less. The casserole trays stopped. The calls slowed to static. The church pew that once knew her name now whispered it with polite pity. But Marla kept the porch light on. Faith doesn’t need a crowd.
One morning, the mailman, a boy too young to carry so many names, found her sitting with a box in her lap. It was her son’s. Mailed back from a base across the sea. The tape still sealed.
He asked if she wanted help opening it.
She said no.
She would wait until spring.
Until the daffodils came back.
Because that’s what he’d promised her, once. That he’d be home by spring.
And maybe he wouldn’t. But Faith is not measured in odds, it is measured in ritual.
The porch swept.
The cup poured.
The sunrise faced.
“I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing—
that the light is everything.”
—Mary Oliver, The Ponds
In her quiet ritual, Marla joined an ancient lineage.
The mother who stitches booties for a baby not yet born.
The farmer who plants when the forecast warns against it.
The widow who kneels.
The addict who calls his sponsor.
The soldier who writes the letter he may never send.
Not one of them knows. But still, they act.
Because Faith is not knowledge. It is motion.
“Faith does not require light.
It learns to breathe in the dark.”
—Chris White
Faith is the thread that binds the visible to the unseen.
It is what remains when the miracles don’t come.
It is what survives when all that’s left is the choice to go on; to believe in a destiny unrevealed.
And when the veil tears and all truths are laid bare,
when the stars fall and the heavens fold,
Faith will not gloat.
It will not say I told you so.
It will bow its head and whisper,
“I knew. I knew you’d come.”
“Even after all this time,
the sun never says to the earth,
‘You owe me.’
Look what happens with a love like that—
It lights the whole sky.”
—Hafiz (translated by Daniel Ladinsky)
Ramblings & Revelations 
Responses
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (author unknown). Faith remains when the world around you is crashing.
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Love it! We should have collaborated on this one.
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Thanks for your response. In your case, I am more likely to be a taker than a giver. Sorry, but you have so much to give.
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That’s right, Warren. The author is unknown/disputed; but it is found in the New Testament = Hebrews 11:1. I remember realizing one day that folks tend to focus on the “hoped for” and “unseen” part of that statement, not noticing that the declaration is that faith is ‘substance” and “evidence.” In other words, it is actually real and tangible, not just unseen and hoped for.
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Great points.
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Another beautiful post, Chris! I’ve often wondered how some people go through life’s ups and downs without faith.
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Thank you Maddie. I have encountered a few people in my life that really struggled with constant crisis, and no tools or tolerance to help. Drug therapy seems to be the go-to these days, when a simple/free spiritual mindset could solve most people’s problems or at least offer a coping mechanism.
I’m exploring the real world value of these virtues out-loud, and I’m amazed at the responses I’m getting from them. The best part; I’m coaching myself in the process.
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Bravo! An absolutely star-studded addition. This is a masterful piece of writing.
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Thank you so much. If anyone is confused; I skipped ahead of the fourth (Kindness), because I’m still working on it. Moved this one up because I had written a more intuitive outline. Hopefully I can complete the other this weekend.
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So beautiful and touching.
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Thank you Diana.
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Awesome writing…love it! I have to get caught up on the others!
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Thank you Janice. I’m delighted you’re enjoying this series. Five more to go.
Chris
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Beautiful writing, but I find Marla very sad.
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Thank you. Where logic alone deems it, we’d all be sad. In the exercise of writing this, I hoped we’d all put ourselves in her shoes. “Would I apply logic or have her faith?” I’m not sure about myself. I’ve not been fully tested; not like her. I wanted to remind myself what it looks like, the dish on which this virtue of faith might be served. While my goal was to challenge myself, my hope is that others will also be moved in some way.
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You’re welcome. I suppose I don’t have that type of faith.
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Honestly, I think we’d all struggle. I know I would. We all strive for it, but living is not as easy as writing.
I hope that I can one day live up to the ideals that I’m writing, but I’m not sure I will. I think that’s the point.
I’m secure in who I think I am, but a bit insecure about who I will be when it’s most important to know. So I write to remind myself.
I really appreciate your dialogue and your blog. You’re a fantastic storyteller and you’ve got important stuff to say. I hope others reading mine will give yours a visit.
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You’re welcome, and thank you.
I suppose it’s a different worldview. Mine is more like I have faith the tides will continue to ebb and flow–as long as we don’t blow up the Earth. And we should do what we can so that we don’t blow up the Earth, or least care for the people and animals on it.
I like that you write to remind yourself who you are.
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I share in your fears. Words change worlds—let’s keep writing.
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Let’s! 😊
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So moving… A wonderful portrait of quiet, steadfast faith that refuses to let go, even in the dark.
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Thank you Willie.
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Beautiful ❤️
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Thank you very much Rita.
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I just found your blog today, and I am in love with it! You are able to trap a reader in the first sentence. In my little book of life, that’s what I look for in prose and poetry. First line dominance! And I love how you sprinkle poetry in with the mix. New fan here! Be ready for more embarrassing praise :)
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Thank you so much! You made my day Isabella.
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You betcha. Looking forward to more from you.
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