The beggar Tantus receives a great gift from his people's god.  But when he sees the suffering of his friends in the city, he wonders if the god is less powerful than he believes.
 

     The beggar Tantus climbed up the steps on raw, bleeding knees.  At every ninth step he stopped and whipped himself across the back with a short, leather whip.  Townspeople streamed by, most not sparing the penitent a second glance.  The grocer, Mornit, who had always been kind to Tantus, paused to place an apple from his offering basket on the step ahead of the beggar.

     Gratefully Tantus took a break from his climb to devour the fruit.  Dark clouds hung low over the large town.  The clay buildings stood out in sharp contrast to the sky, pale red to its grey that bordered on black.  The townsfolk were hurrying to get their business done before the rare storm broke.  Even here, halfway up the temple hill, Tantus could hear the cries of merchants trying to unload the last of their goods.

     When all that remained of the apple was the tough core, Tantus peeled the shell back and picked out the tiny, black seeds.  These he grasped carefully in his right hand, discarding the rest, and resumed his painful climb.  The sharp ends of the seeds stabbed into the palm of his hand.

     At the top he did not stand up.  Crawling toward the black idol, he left two streaks of blood across the open temple floor.  Other bloodstains marked the floor as well, but none were fresh.  Tantus prayed that his blood and the apple seeds would be an acceptable offering to the god, Aishis.  Surely the god knew that he had no gold to offer.