Seeking Treasureland
A story by Jill Eileen Smith


Chapter Three

"Where do we go after the manger?" Manuel asked, skipping to keep up with Pastor Winston's long strides.

"To Sinner's Avenue," Pastor Winston said his voice low and solemn.

Chelsea wanted to ask Pastor Winston what he meant, but a nagging fear kept her quiet. Pastor Winston's mouth dipped in a frown and his eyes were so sad. Sinner's Avenue must be important.

They walked along in silence until the sun moved almost halfway to the sky. Chelsea's feet hurt from stepping over the stony ground. She edged closer to Pastor Winston, about to slip her hand in his, when he stopped.

"Here we are." Pastor Winston pointed to a rusted old signpost. It read: SINNER'S AVENUE - "For whoever shall keep the whole law, and yet stumble in one point, he is guilty of all." James 2:10

"Why do we have to come here, Pastor Winston?" Mark asked in a shaky voice. "It looks spooky."

"Because sooner or later everyone who wants to enter Treasureland has to face their sin," Pastor Winston said softly. He led the children down a rutted street with decaying buildings. Peering through the window of a run down apartment, the children watched boys sprawled in a name-calling, vicious fight. In another corner three girls shouted, scowling at one another. Chelsea couldn't hear their words, but her stomach knotted and her heart felt heavy when two of the girls pushed and yelled at a third, smaller girl until she ran away in tears.

Pastor Winston moved down the street, pausing outside an old drug store. Boards hung loose from the walls and chipped paint marred the surface. At Pastor Winston's beckoning hand, Chelsea followed Mark and Manuel closer to the window where they peeked through dusty glass.

"What's he doing?" Mark whispered as two big boys snatched candy from one of the aisles and stuffed it into the pockets of their torn jeans. Three girls stood a few feet away at the makeup counter, casting watchful glances over their shoulders. When they thought no one could see, they slipped lipstick and nail polish into their purses.

"They shouldn't steal," Chelsea said, keeping her voice as quiet as a soft breeze. Fear made her heart thump hard, and as Pastor Winston walked on toward the end of the slum lane, she slipped her hand in his. The road turned a sharp corner into a wealthy, well-kept neighborhood. Chelsea's pulse slowed, relief flooding her.

"Whew!" Mark breathed, echoing Chelsea's thoughts. "We've left Sinner's Avenue!"

"No, Mark," Pastor Winston corrected. "All men are sinners and sinners live everywhere." Pastor Winston pointed to a large, red brick building, a private school, and led the children inside.

Chelsea followed Pastor Winston up the wide stone steps, under the white arches, and into the building. They looked into a classroom where the children were taking a test. Some of the children were obviously cheating. In the hallway several minutes later, Chelsea noticed an argument between two girls, the one accusing the other of stealing from her locker. Two boys looked sullen and spoke in disrespectful tones to a teacher.

"Even a child is known by his actions, as to whether his actions are pure and right," Pastor Winston whispered as he led them back through the double glass doors and into the bright sunshine. Chelsea hurried to keep up with Pastor Winston's long strides, anxious to leave Sinner's Avenue.

"Do you understand what you saw?" Pastor Winston asked, motioning for the three of them to sit beside him under the shade of a spreading oak tree.

Chelsea shook her head. "Why do we have to take this road to get to the cross, Pastor Winston?"

Pastor Winston smiled, patting Chelsea's knee. "Because the Bible says, 'For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,' and 'There is none righteous, no not one.'" Pastor Winston tilted his head back looking toward the cloudless blue sky.

"You see, before a person can come to the cross, they must see themselves as a sinner. If a man or woman, boy or girl, thinks they are good enough to get to Treasureland their own way, they won't have any use for the cross. The cross was Jesus dying to pay for our sins. But if we don't see ourselves as sinners, we don't think we need a Savior."

Manuel looked at Pastor Winston, his large, dark brown eyes brimming with tears. "Some of those decaying houses--the poor, clean ones--reminded me of my home in Mexico. Even though we are poor, we work hard. Most of my family thinks they will go to Treasureland because they do good things and love each other. My father would never see himself as a sinner. He is very proud."

"Many people believe the Pretender's lie pebbles, which say they are good enough. Only the really bad people are considered sinners." Pastor Winston stood brushing dust from his tan khakis. "But come, let's find shelter. Tomorrow is the Lord's Day, and I have more to show you."

* * *


Sarah skipped along beside Prince admiring his gift, a shiny gold bracelet. Blue sapphires embedded in the gold shimmered in the sun's glow on her arm.

"God blesses you with good things because you please Him," Prince had told her. "This bracelet is a gift from Him."

She smiled at the memory, her earlier discontent gone. She looked up from admiring her prize, the first of the many he had promised her. Prince's feet halted at the entrance to a thicket. Up ahead stood the church he had talked about. Surely now she could rejoin her sister. Maybe Pastor Winston and the kids would come with her on Prince's path. Especially when they saw her bracelet.

But as Prince stepped forward into the woods, the shadows grew dark. A chill swept over her and fear pricked her spine. Where was he taking her?

* * *


The golden cross at the top of the church's steeple sparkled in the early Sunday morning sun. Pastor Winston walked along the path singing and Chelsea's heart felt light as she, Mark, and Manuel joined in. But as they entered the wooden doors and saw the pictures of Jesus in stained glass lining the walls, memories of home and of her sister made a lump stick in her throat.

"Will Sarah find us here?" Chelsea's stomach dipped at the uncertainty she saw on Pastor Winston's face. "Will Jesus call her again?"

"Jesus keeps calling us, Chelsea." Pastor Winston smiled and patted her shoulder. "But Sarah must be listening to hear him."

Chelsea bit her lip and nodded as she sat beside Pastor Winston in the third pew from the front. Mark and Manuel squeezed past three people to sit next to her and waited for the minister to begin speaking. Chelsea twisted her head to see the door at the back of the church. The pews were full.

There was no sign of Sarah.

* * *


Prince held Sarah's hand and stood in the shadow of the trees until Sarah could hear singing coming from the small white church.

"We're late." She gave Prince her most stormy scowl. "I'm never late!"

"We're not late." Prince tugged her forward then, as the last strains of the organ drifted toward them. "We're just making an entrance." His smile made goose bumps run up her arms. She cringed as he pulled open the squeaky doors and ushered her inside. He seated her in the last pew as the minister stood to speak.

"Just before Jesus died on the cross, he gave instructions to his disciples." Sarah heard the minister's words, and glanced at Prince. His dark brows were drawn together in the tiniest of frowns. Was he mad about something? She shrugged and faced the preacher again.

"Jesus told them that he was going to prepare a place for them and would come back for them to take them to be with Him in His Father's house." The minister's eyes were alive with excitement, unlike the shadowy glimmer in Prince's.

The minister continued. "Jesus said, 'You know the way to the place where I am going.'

"But Thomas said to him, 'Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?'

"Then Jesus answered with the words that make many people stumble today. He said, 'I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'"

Prince tapped Sarah's arm and slipped a golden pebble into her hand. Sarah's mind turned away from the speaker as her eyes focused on the words engraved in the stone.

"It doesn't matter what you believe as long as you're sincere." Doubt pricked Sarah's heart. She glanced at Prince, and he gave her his charming smile. Sarah felt a kick over her heart and inched closer to him.

When the service ended, Prince ushered Sarah through the door.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Sarah asked, purposely slowing her steps. What if Chelsea was here? Didn't Prince want her to meet up with her friends?

"Sarah, wait!"

"Chelsea!" Sarah spun around, pulled her hand from Prince's grasp and ran toward her sister. "Chelsea! I thought I'd never find you again."

"Oh Sarah, I was so worried when you didn't come back. Where were you?" Tears filled Chelsea's eyes.

Sarah cleared her throat as the pebbles in her pocket suddenly felt heavier and the bracelet on her wrist tightened. "Oh I met a wonderful man. He's so warm and friendly and he gives me gifts and he's taking me to Treasureland," she said, her words tumbling from her in a torrent. "See; he gave me this bracelet. Isn't it beautiful? Do you want to meet him?" She turned, searching for Prince but he was nowhere in sight. "That's strange…he was right here."

Chelsea looked wide-eyed at the bracelet and then met Sarah's gaze. "Are you sure he isn't the Pretender? I didn't see him taking you toward the cross."

The prick of doubt she'd felt earlier returned. "We haven't gotten there yet, that's all."

An orange butterfly with black spots flew past Sarah's ear, and she allowed her gaze to follow it up toward the steeple. "There's a cross up there, see? If we weren't headed in the right direction, he wouldn't have brought me to church." Confidence surged through her as she spoke. She smiled at Chelsea, feeling suddenly smug. "The path he travels is so soft and gentle. You should come with us."

Chelsea shook her head as Pastor Winston, Mark and Manuel came up behind her. "Can I see the pebbles you're carrying, Sarah?" Sarah looked into Pastor Winston's kind blue eyes, her smugness fleeing.

A knot formed in Sarah's stomach, but she nodded, reached into her pocket and handed one of the stones to Pastor Winston. Pastor Winston's kind eyes grew sad as he read. "Sarah, this is a lie pebble. This isn't a Bible verse. It belongs to the Pretender."

Heat seared Sarah's cheeks. She looked away, shame filling her. How could she have been deceived?

"God blesses you with good things because you please Him. This bracelet is a gift from Him." Sarah glanced at the sapphires glittering on her arm. The gold had almost melted against her skin, fitting her like a glove.

"Prince is not the Pretender. He said he is an angel of light and I believe him. You're wrong, all of you!" She turned and ran down the path away from the church.


Continue to Chapter 4