A Fiction Prose Reflection, Book III of VIII
byChrisWhite – 2025
On the Series:
In this series, we delve into 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. This third installment contemplates Prudence, the quiet guardian of wisdom and foresight.
The city did not sleep. It shuddered and hummed and swallowed itself bathed in light. Between the slick iron bones of Nashville, where concrete grates coughed steam and LED promises blinked red into the void, there lived a man whose name nobody remembered twice. He was called Elias by his parents once, and that was enough.
His shop was narrow, like a seam torn open between two suits of glass. People passed it without seeing. A relic in a corridor of ambition. But within, it was all a hush. Inside, there was a faint vanilla scent of slowly decomposing papers, most older than memory. Ink bled into linen threads, and book spines curled like sleeping cats. Five thousand or more voices, none of them shouting.
He moved through the aisles as one might drift through the ruins of a cathedral, not reverent; aware. A man not in hiding but in practice. Some mornings he rearranged the same titles in silence just to feel the weight of them. Marcus Aurelius. Baldwin. Akhmatova. Seneca. Words that had been tempered like iron.
He reached for a book and opened it to a dog-eared page, his eyes reflecting the weight of the words within. He read:
‘Prudence is the virtue of the senses. It is the science of appearances. It is the outmost action of the inward life.’ –Ralph Waldo Emerson
When the girl came in, the wind came with her, spring wind, sharp and expectant. Her coat was unbuttoned. She had the look of someone who had been running, not in body but in soul.
She did not speak right away. She looked at the rows of books as though hoping one might lift its own cover and speak directly to her.
When she did offer words, it was not with smallness. “I don’t know what’s true anymore,” she said.
He looked at her then. Not kindly. Not cold. Just fully.
“There’s so much noise,” she went on. “Everyone shouting to be right, or righteous. It’s all performance. All of it. How do you know who to listen to? How do you choose?”
He did not answer quickly. The pause stretched, not awkward but earned.
“There is a thing,” he said at last, his voice like a blade honed by slow practiced use, “that watches the frenzy without entering it. That sees the horizon when the rest are squinting into mirrors.”
She waited.
“Prudence,” he said.
A word not often said aloud.
“It does not argue. It waits. It listens not to be convinced but to understand.”
He reached for a book behind the counter. A battered thing, leather-bound, corners like chewed bone. He opened it without looking at the page.
“There are voices who knew this before we all forgot. Emerson said: ‘It is the science of appearances. The outmost action of the inward life.’ Meaning, what is done on the surface must be the echo of what is true beneath.”
The girl, her name perhaps Linda or Lisa, if she gave it, was now lost. She leaned in closer, her breath making the page shift. “But how do you become that? How do you find that stillness when everything around you demands speed, applause, some kind of hot belief?”
He closed the book. The thump was soft but final.
“You learn to sit with discomfort. You become unafraid to take no stance until you understand the ground you’re standing on. You let the fire in your chest cool enough to see by its light instead of burning in it.”
Her shoulders, tight like coiled wire, eased by inches.
He said, “Fury is loud. Fear, louder. But wisdom is subterranean. It whispers in the marrow. It is reliably steady. You won’t hear it until you’ve stopped listening to anything else.”
She stayed for a while after that. Said nothing more. Touched the spines of books like they were stone markers. When she left, she didn’t buy anything. But she bowed her head slightly when the door chimed.
Elias did not watch her go. He returned to the book. Not to read it, he already knew the line, but to hold the weight of the thing in his hands again, as one might hold a truth long buried and still warm.
That night the city screamed itself to sleep again. Horns, sirens, laughter too loud to be joy. But inside that narrow seam between buildings, the hush endured.
Prudence does not wear a sign. It carries no weapon. It has no party affiliation. It walks unseen beside those who weigh before they speak, who speak before they act, and act with the knowledge that time will ask its own questions. It is not celebrated. It is not sought. But it is the quiet measure by which all things are finally known.
And somewhere in the black belly of that wind-whipped city, someone wrote:
O Prudence, keeper of still hands,
The flame that does not dance,
The eye behind the veil—
Teach us not to win, but to wait.
To listen without trembling.
To know, and yet not need to speak.
—C.W.


Responses
I love everything Ralph Waldo Emerson ever said or wrote. Such wise words. Happy Easter
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I think we’re on the same page. Thanks for stopping by and sharing your thoughts.
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I just finished reading “The Virtue of Prudence,” and I really enjoyed it! Your portrayal of Elias and the way he navigates life’s chaos through the lens of Prudence is beautifully done. It’s such an important reminder to take a step back and reflect in a world that often feels so loud and overwhelming. Thanks for sharing your insights! Looking forward to the next piece in the series!
Best,
Mark
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Thank you Mark. Yeah, one need not look far for examples. Thank you for the kind review.
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Hi. I read this slowly and with intention. Thank you for this view into a quiet world of what matters. It’s as if the young lady entered a place that she couldn’t understand, and then left all the wiser. Prudence is a word I don’t think about much. This gave me a chance to do so. Thank you.
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Thanks Brad. I’m glad you found it meaningful.
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Reasoning is much more important than the action
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I could envision the safe, quiet, almost sacred shop sitting silently in a noisy city where the someone can enter seeking answers. Wonderful post.
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Thank you Diana. I appreciate your support.
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Thank you for this, reading it has brought goose bumps up on my arms. Truly moving. A brilliant insight into todays world, where everything is moving too fast and loud, and to find that inner voice, make up your own mind and to stay true to yourself is important.
You descriptive technique is submersive and the ideas thought provoking. A beautifully written piece.
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What a wonderful surprise. You’re too kind. Thank you for stopping by and sharing your thoughts.
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So moving. This reflection on Prudence is like a quiet echo of Proverbs 3:21 – “Do not let wisdom and understanding out of your sight.” It reminds us that true discernment walks quietly, but it sees everything. 🙏📖
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Perfectly stated. Thank you Willie.
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You are very welcome…
Be Safe, Be Well, Be Blessed…
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Thank you. Blessings be to all during this somber night and in the joy of the morning.
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Thank you back. You’ve blessed me with your appreciation.
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There’s so much I loved about this piece. I loved the personification of the city in the first paragraph, the description of the shop in the second paragraph, and the gems you dropped through the dialogue. I felt I was in the story and that I was the girl. I connected with several parts but the part I’d like to tell you I appreciated the most is when the girl confides she doesn’t know what’s true anymore. “There’s so much noise…Everyone shouting to be right, or righteous. It’s all a performance. All of it. How do you know who to listen to?” How do you choose?” This part resonated with me because it reminded me of a sermon I heard recently where the preacher quoted John 14:6 – “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” He used that verse to describe the dilemma people have had throughout time. Who is telling the truth? He illustrated his point by having a young man come from the audience and instructing him to listen to his Father but the young man couldn’t hear him because everyone was shouting they had the truth. Your story further resonated because it reminded me of The Social Dilemma documentary on Netflix that discusses the danger social media is having on people’s thoughts and actions. The documentary brings to light how we’re being manipulated about what is true and not true through our tailored social media feeds. I said all this to say I really enjoyed your piece and plan to reread it again. It is beautiful and reminds me of how essential prudence is.
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I’m so blessed, that it resonates with you, and that you allowed me to know it resonates with you. What a gift. Thank you Jeanine.
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You’re welcome, Chris!
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Wisdom to live by. Thanks you for the reminder
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Thank you.
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Beautifully written, Chris – from an emotional aspect as well as a wordsmith one. You are a fantastic writer!
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You’re always so supportive Maddie. It means the world. Especially from you.
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Thank you for checking out my profile. I will read your posts later. I just wanted to reach out to people that liked my posts. Please subscribe to me. I like reading things on here. I am going to two therapists tomorrow. I hope you have a great week. I like WordPress. Be safe.
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Thank you Jessica. I hope you find something that resonates with you. Good luck with your mission.
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Thank you for your comment. I hope we can chat more. I want some advice from you how to write posts. Enjoy the rest of your week. I am busy, so I have to go, now. Please continue to read what I post on here. Talk to you later. I am going to go, now. Be safe.
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Inspiring and wise words to hold in our hearts. <3
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Thank you Carol.
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You took me back through 40 years of owning bookstores. I felt right at home handling those books. I had customers who talked a lot or a little; I listened. Somehow, we solved the world’s problems. Such a good read.
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Thank you Warren. I really appreciate your kind review. I’ve committed to eight more in this series. I hope the rest won’t disappoint. No pressure right? The wife is traveling this week for work, maybe I’ll get the next one finished early; tonight or tomorrow. We’ll see.
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Brilliant. It took me more than 60 years to learn what you said in these few words: “You learn to sit with discomfort. You become unafraid to take no stance until you understand the ground you’re standing on.
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In fairness, it took me the same amount of time/life. Lol. Thanks again.
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Wise
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Thank you.
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