Kayla’s Story, An Allegory: Chapter 2 A Pile of Dirt

The rising sun, hidden by a thick layer of clouds, seemed cold and distant. Kayla shivered as she hurried to her car, key in hand. The sooner she got out of the cold brisk wind the better. As the door slammed shut, Kayla shoved the key in the ignition and turned it. Click. That was it. No motor sound, just a click. Eyebrows raised, she tried again. And again, just the soft click that she had grown to hate over the last few months. She had delayed buying a new battery until she could find one at a deeply discounted price, and had gotten used to demanding someone jump her car each time she found it dead. But she thought she had fixed it after cleaning the connections with a homemade cleaning formula she found on line. For the last two weeks it had started right up. How dare it quit working again now! Frowning, she pulled the key out and punched the steering wheel. Without the use of her car, she would have to walk in this gloomy weather. It would make her late, but she could save some time by cutting through some empty lots. Sighing heavily, she opened the door, climbed out, slung her backpack over one shoulder, and began trudging down the sidewalk.

 As she walked, she contemplated the voice mail that had come from her church last month, inviting her to a special gathering at the park. The person had not given many details, just to dress comfortably, preferably pants and a t-shirt, and to be there by ten. Probably some kind of clean up event, but that was okay with her. Helping would help her standing in the church, and she enjoyed strengthening her connections to certain members. She didn’t need their favors right now, but who knew what the future held. There may come a day when she will be glad she took the time to cultivate these relationships.

Turning the next corner, she abruptly stopped. The sidewalk disappeared under a large mound of dirt which had spilled out from the driveway of a small brown house. What were they thinking to bring in that much dirt? Didn’t they realize it would encroach upon the sidewalk, hindering those trying to complete their walks? Or didn’t they care? How was she going to get past it? The traffic had not gotten busy yet, but there were still enough cars to make street walking dangerous so going around the dirt wasn’t an option. She looked across the street. Maybe she could walk on that side, but the lack of a sidewalk over there deterred her. She didn’t want to walk through the tall weeds, probably picking up prickly hitchhikers along the way. There might even be snakes in there. Shuddering, Kayla looked back at the dirt pile. As much as she hated the idea, climbing over the mess seemed to be the lesser of three evils. She gingerly began taking some steps, placing each foot carefully, and shifting her weight slowly as she tested the stability of the dirt. Expecting to sink with every step, she was surprised when she didn’t. The hardness of the dirt suggested that it must have been there a good while. As the dirt held, her confidence grew, and her steps became firmer and faster until she was cresting the top. Standing at the top reminded her of one of her favorite childhood games, and she yelled out, “King of the Hill!”

Suddenly her right foot plunged down on nothing as the dirt gave way. Flinging out her hands, she desperately tried to keep her balance. For a moment she thought she had won, but then the dirt under her left foot shifted and she hit the dirt face first. Her vision dimmed as pain erupted from her nose. She wanted to cry out, but the musty taste of dirt filled her mouth making her gag instead. She sat up slowly, spitting repeatedly, and took stock of her injuries. Her nose was still pulsating with pain, but the rest of her seemed to be okay. At least she thought so until she tried to stand up. This time she did cry out as her right ankle gave way and she fell again. She had to get help, but first she had to get off this pile of dirt before more of it collapsed. Not able to stand, she resorted to crawling. Small landslides flowed around her as she painfully pulled herself along, sliding one inch at a time. Holding her breath each time she shifted her weight, she begged the dirt not to collapse.  When she finally reached the bottom, she heaved a huge sigh of relief and reached down to examine her throbbing ankle. She manipulated her foot, turning it in all directions and wincing at times as pain shot up her leg, until she was satisfied it wasn’t broken. A sprain was bad enough, but at least she wouldn’t have to call 911. Her minimal insurance policy wouldn’t cover an ambulance. Somehow she was going to have to get to walk-in clinic on her own. She scooted to a nearby speed limit sign, and used the pole to pull herself to a standing position. A cautious step, and then another, and Kayla was relieved that the pain, although painful, wasn’t too extreme.  Maybe her ankle wasn’t that bad after all. If she could just get back home, she could treat her injuries herself without having to incur a huge medical bill. However, climbing over that pile to return home was out of the question. She would have to continue to the park, where she shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone to drive her back home.

As she limped, she wondered why no one had seen her predicament. In fact, she realized after a few moments, there had been no traffic while she was on that dirt mound. That was strange. It almost felt like that dirt had been placed there deliberately to catch people off guard, and that this whole thing had been planned to cause her to fall. She shook her head. No, that was crazy thinking. Who would do such a thing? Still, it was strange that no one had seen or heard her. Or maybe someone did and chose not to get involved. That was more likely. The emotionally painful feeling of not being good enough to warrant help by strangers intensified her physical pain. Soon her tears made tracks down her grubby cheeks as she made her way to the place where she was worth someone’s attention and help. Her church owed her at least that much for being willing to help clean up the park with them.


For wicked men are found among my people; they lurk like fowlers lying in wait. They set a trap; they catch men. (Jer 5:26)

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. (1 Peter 5:8)

The arrogant one will stumble and fall with no one to raise him up (Jer 50:32)