Journey through
the Hebrew Alphabet
By Tanya Ramm
Each one of the Hebrew letters here, once clicked upon, opens a story.
Collection of Adventure Stories
It's free for you to enjoy and learn from it.
My comments and interpretation of the parables will be included in the Printed Version (soon)
Printed Version of each Story separately will include illustrations, vocabulary files and Scripture study on the solution, provided by God.
If the Lord moved on your heart to support this creative outreach,
here is the link:
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Content
1. Original Design
Letter Aleph - The purpose of human existence.
2. Building a Base
Letter Beit - Secure Refuge in troubling world
3. Growing Process
Letter Gimel - Two conflicting origins of Greatness
4. An Open Door
Letter Dalet - What are my options? A door opened by God.
5. A Movement from the Inside
Letter Hei - Which voice will you follow?
6. Choose to Connect
Letter Vav - True connection vs. Illusion
7. Business Decision
Letter Zayn - Your choices and opportunities. The issue of identity.
8. Price of Freedom
Letter Het - Understanding Freedom and your personal journey into its domain.
9. A Detour
Letter Tet - The most common misunderstanding, which leads into deception.
10. Stand your Ground!
Letter Yud - Family issues. Morality problem and its everlasting solution.
11. Born to Shine
Letter Kaf - Human ideas of a meaningful life and God's redemptive light.
12. Teach your Heart
Letter Lamed - You are both a student and a teacher. Your heart is in the center of a battle.
13. Life and Death
Letter Mem - Stock market - an ongoing interaction between life and death. A way of escape.
14. Music School
Letter Nun - The essence of music. The conflict in every human life and its resolution.
15. Moving Forward
Letter Samech - Three simple ways out of the rat race.
16. Your Guide into the Future
Letter Ayn - The Biggest challenge all humans share. The way of an overcomer.
17. Breaking Through
Letter Pei - How do you know yourself? The meaning of brokenness.
18. Crossroads
Letter Tzadi - Human experience and God's plan. Point of decision
19. Awakening
Letter Kuf - What are you awake to? Invisible enemy and your victory.
20. The Seat of Justice
Letter Shin - Who is the Judge and how the history is made.
21. Looking in the Mirror
Letter Resh - Living in the world of mirrors. God's healing touch.
22. After the End
Letter Tav - Where exactly is the end? Or did we miss it?
Original Design
Letter Aleph
Ground zero. There was nothing created yet.
Of course, the Lord God was there, since He is existence itself, but there wasn't someone to know Him, receive His love, and love Him back.
And the Lord God created a man from the earth. He made them to be both man and woman, so that they could complete one another in love. God commanded them to walk in His truth, but they decided they knew better. "We are humans," they said, and they went wandering in human ways. Eventually, they became a father and a mother, and quite a few generations went by until I arrived.
Being a child, I always thought of myself as number one, the most important. Care surrounded me. The whole world around me was singing a chorus: "We love you!"
Growing up I found out that everyone cares for himself most of the time; some people that assured me of their love before now didn't care. I had to seek love on my own. And I started on the journey to find the true love that does not change with time.
Years went by. I've heard I love you many times, which activated my existence, but only for a short time. Though my journey was arduous, it indeed had high points. Some were treasures, like happiness, approval, and greatness. I touched the wealth this world had to offer and felt loved, but those experiences evaporated so fast for some reason!
I wish and conclude that I need to find the location of all those treasures. Once I see it, I will not wrestle with life anymore or strain myself daily to make ends meet. That wealth would make my life worth living! Caught up in my imagination, I didn't notice a big stone in the middle of the road where I walked and fell right upon it.
My body was hurting all over. I laid there miserable, sighing from pain. It was getting late, and I couldn't recognize where I was. Who would locate me here now? I tried to make some signals for help but could only come up with more groaning. I had to hurry to figure out something on the spot. Suddenly the darkness around me was illuminated by an approaching flashlight, and I heard a voice right above my head:
"Oh! Another one. Those poor travelers."
I understood that I wasn't the first to get into this incident.
"Why wouldn't you remove this stone out of the way," I shouted with all my leftover strength.
The stranger was neither surprised nor offended by my anger.
"Believe me, we tried," he responded calmly. "And not just one. In fact, in every generation, at least one champion travels to this place and attempts to lift this stone, but none of them can do it. They all get exhausted trying.
Anyway, let me take care of you," he continued, “sympathizing with me. How do you estimate your hurt? Do you need to be hospitalized? We have a regional hospital nearby."
It didn't sound to me like a good idea. I imagined myself in a hospital room hermetically sealed from the rest of the world: homogenous beds, sheets, dishes, clothing, nothing personal. What would a personality like me do there? And besides that, meals in a regional hospital are intended to fatten patients like animals. There will be moaning and sorrow on each face. I will never be able to get used to such an atmosphere!
"No, no. I don't want to be hospitalized!" I announced my decision.
"All right," continued the man patiently. "Another option for you would be to visit our hostel. It's a humble lodging with simple food, but we would be happy for you to be our guest. In the past, we hosted many noble personalities simply because of the proximity of this famous stone."
"Okay, sure," I agreed. It sounded to me like my best option.
He helped me get up, and we slowly went to the hostel. It happened to be only a few steps away. Entering, I saw the name on the door: "Human Inn."
"What a strange name," I thought to myself as I read it very slowly as I was just learning the letters.
"Come, dinner is ready," called the man. "You are the guest of honor tonight."
I was starving, but trying not to appear a glutton, I started a conversation:
"So, this hostel is your job?"
"Oh, no! I only volunteer here to help hurt travelers like you. I work in a bakery that belongs to a Human storehouse around the corner."
My dream was coming true in front of my eyes. I got speechless for a few minutes, then asked, "Can you show me this storehouse?"
"You really want to see it?"
"Yes!"
"Okay," he agreed. "But only once."
I quickly swallowed my food, and we went out the door into the dark of the night. Suddenly he said:
"You are right there, inside the Storehouse."
"But I can't see anything!"
"Wait, I will turn on the light. Here we are."
I looked around. It looked like a storage that I've seen many times in different places, nothing special. It even looked familiar to me. There were packages all over.
"It's not that hard to understand, but it might appear confusing when you see everything at once," started the man. "Everything here belongs to mankind. There are different departments, and each of them has its unique characteristics. You can find anything you wish in abundance: noblesse, glorification, happiness, and approval. Here is a chance to become a general. There are plenty of lusts and cravings like gluttony, fist fighting, ambush, battles, enforcement, rape, and violence." And we went from shelf to shelf.
"Come, see over here," he continued. "There are many different associations and organizations you can join. You may become certified and either confirm the ideas of others or forbid them to do things they want. You may collect items, run to meetings, or lead an assembly.
There are a lot of gray colors available, enough for every human. By the way, in attempts to extend their beauty, some people put on bright makeup. We got plenty of that stuff. Here is your citizenship, character, personality, lexicon, and so on."
Everything in that place illustrated the life I knew, the life that was so familiar. I couldn't restrain myself any longer, so I asked, "What about the losses and sorrows, disappointments, threats, offenses, guilt, and misery?"
He shook his head. "They are also here, right over there." And he pointed to a shelf in a corner. I looked closer. They were not single packages like the rest of them. They were encircling something else.
"Those don't come alone," the man continued. "They come in pairs. For example, every disappointment contains a challenge within it. Or courage: Why would you need it if you are not facing a threatening situation? Or inner stability: To learn it, you have to experience offenses, which rock your boat, then you would see the difference and make your choices.
Because you need to know the one in context to the other, they come wrapped together. All those occur interwoven with lots of strengthening and recovery."
For a minute, he forgot that I was standing next to him. He closed his eyes and started to cite an old piece of poetry:
"A time to weep and a time to laugh,
A time to mourn and a time to dance,
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
A time to embrace and a time to refrain."
"You see," he said, "everything in human life has its match. This one, for example: 'To lose and to gain package' humans use it the most. Every time they decide between any two options, they lose the one to gain the other." He started to walk away but suddenly stopped, pointing at one of the packages: "Look over here!" he said. "This is a funny one: 'A fast and slow package.' As humans run through life, there are always those who run faster in front of them and those who are behind them. People advise each other to slow down but individually continue to hasten forward, envying those in front of them, fearing getting lost."
Puzzled, I stopped at the Human Storehouse door and suddenly remembered my journey's purpose.
"What about THE true love," I asked the man. "I didn't see it here."
"It's not here," he responded. "It's in a different location, in the domain of the Creator Himself. The true love wasn't created since it's the essence of God."
How can I reach it then? I wondered.
"Faith is the only match for the true love. Your faith in His word will bring you into a different domain, called God's kingdom. There you will know the true love: its unlimited power, its grandeur, its glorious beauty. Faith works by love.*
All you saw in the Human Storehouse will one day cease to exist. It will burn in the fire and become dust and ashes. Time will stop. The world we know today will come to ground zero again, and only that found in God's domain will remain. It's a glorious location - a place of honor, filled with marvelous light!"
"Only the noble people are allowed there then?" I uttered and looked down.
"Not at all! He assured me. "You don't have to be special in any way. Just believe that God is true and that he really meant what He said. Faith is such a simple path that even a little child will walk on it without getting lost. Everything in the word of God is pointing to that one path, you'll find out...Look! It's straight ahead of you!"
He smiled and added, "At this point, you have seen everything available to men."
Now, you continue your journey, and I must hurry to open my bakery, for every traveler that stops in our 'Human Inn' wants to enjoy a fresh piece of pastry for breakfast."
*Gal. 5:6
Building a Base
Letter Beit
From early childhood and all through my school years, home life was the safest place for me. I would run there, hiding from danger. Of course, my perception of danger changed as I was growing up, but there was always a secure place to escape - home.
And there came a day when even final exams were finally over. The school director's last words sounded like this: "Make sure you don't waste your lives! Express yourselves and make a difference in this world!" I started walking out. The school guard was, as usual, idly standing at the gate, kicking the dust.
"So, what's next," he asked me when I walked past him.
"I'll think of something," I answered and continued to walk away.
On the way home, I stopped at the playground and sat next to a little boy, playing with bubbles. I looked at him and said: "Yea, now it's your time. I also had fun with bubbles before, but now I'm mature and serious. I have to manage on my own. I should go far away from my parents' house to feel independent."
Surprisingly the boy answered me with a most serious expression on his little face. "My father says that a man can learn a lot about life playing with soap bubbles. And by the way, he also says that to live independently as an adult, you need to earn money!"
"Good idea. What do you think I should do?"
"Well, my father says you should do what you are good at; use your natural talent."
I could only think of my one most outstanding feature.
"I can tell hilarious jokes and make everybody laugh. Can that be a job?"
"My father says that whatever brings you money is a job."
"You're right. What a clever idea! A job as a comedian! What can be better than being on stage in sparkling light, owning an audience's admiration?" And I got up to go.
"Are you going to pay me for that smart advice?" the boy asked, blowing his bubbles at me.
"To pay? Look at you. You are a kid! You've got to be kidding!" I put my hand on his shoulder and approved, "that was a good joke!"
I went to check some information, and sure enough, a place was available in the other part of the country. "I want to be independent," I reminded myself and made my choice. Grabbing all my savings,
I left my parents' home and headed out to face the big world.
After a long journey, I stopped before a sign, "Entertainment Company." I entered and soon was standing in front of the owner himself.
"Go ahead, tell us about yourself," he started.
"I have an outstanding personality. I'm smart and expressive. My heart is ablaze with motivation, and
I have a great sense of humor."
"We see that you're not a timid person. We need someone to work every night, stand on stage, tell jokes, and make everyone laugh for an hour. You can invent. We give you the green light to improvise."
"Wow!" I exclaimed. "But I just finished school and have no prior experience."
"No problem. We give preference to adolescents without prior experience. We can make you a part of our family and tame you as one of our own."
Under the surface of those last words, I discerned a weird feeling of danger, but instead of pushing my brakes, went straight on. "When do I start?"
"If you are such a kicker, why don't you kick off tonight's game? My helpers will get you a shiny costume, and you will start shortly. Have fun!"
And here I was. A dream came through. Standing on a stage in sparkling light, I told my jokes, and everybody laughed. Suddenly I noticed something strange: right in the middle of the show, a few men in black sneaked in from the back doors into the auditorium and spread out between the chairs. I kept telling my stories while trying to observe those guys, and I saw they were robbers! Being on stage, I was the only one who could see them. Now I was in an actual life exam, nothing compared to school exams. I had to continue doing my job, but I couldn't pretend I did not see the thieves. I stopped my story and shouted: "Watch out for those men next to you; they are robbers!" All the lights went out at once, and panic spread like lightning. Within a minute, all the people ran out in different directions.
I was sitting on a stage, alone in a dark empty auditorium. Then once again, a beam of light flashed on me. I didn't like it this time; I was kind of scared. The business owner and his helpers approached me and said: "We hired you to do a job for an hour. Why did you stop before the time?"
"But I saw those... "
"That was not your business! They were working with us, and you were supposed to continue your performance. Was it so difficult?"
"No - well, yes ..."
"We see that you are good for nothing. You betrayed our trust! Your employment is canceled! Get out of here, idiot, before we cut you off from this beautiful world!"
I ran away as fast as I could and as far as I could. Eventually, I ran out of strength and fell asleep, exhausted.
The following morning, I woke up lying on the ground in front of a bar with a few men standing in a circle around me, having a heated discussion, each with a bottle in his hand. One of them pointed at me. "Have you heard what happened last night? This fellow exposed the biggest entertainment company! He is a brave guy. Let's drink to his honor!"
"What was in it for him?"
"Nothing," opposed the eldest among them.
"If he would be a detective, at least he would get paid for doing his job."
The third one lifted his bottle high in the air and proclaimed right above my head: "This is real life! Everything else is fiction!"
"There is nothing you can do about it. That's our only choice, explained to me the fourth one with the voice of a peacemaker. "This is our refuge," and he pointed to the bar's door. "Wanna come with us?"
I felt nauseous and couldn't answer a word. I watched the men disappear behind that door, saying, "leave this guy alone; he is not mature yet. He will understand this life one day." Here I was alone, despicable, scorned, and confused. My whole life was a waste, and I didn't have a place to escape. Should I go into the bar to understand life and become mature? As I thought that, another man appeared before me and said: "Sorry for interfering, but you don't have to suppress yourself so hard and wither for the rest of your life."
"Enough of comments!" And I pushed the stranger away. "I want to have a break from all this criticism! Let me go drink something."
"You don't need to swallow everything that comes your way. The reason I spoke to you is that you look homeless."
Now he got my attention: "Why would you say that? Just because I slept one night outside does not mean I'm homeless!"
"You look confused. I understand that you run away from danger, but do you have a place to escape? Where is your secure refuge? If you don't have one, you're homeless."
I stopped to think for a minute. "My parents' home, I remembered; I can go back."
"Secure parents' home is a bonus. But you are on your own now and should build your base. It's all about choices. Come with me, and I will tell you a story. I agreed, not having anything else to do at the moment. And he started. "Once upon a time lived a man called Abraham. He traveled together with his nephew by the name Lot. They both were wealthy and had a lot of flocks."
"Are you kidding me?" I interrupted him. "Who doesn't know this story? Every child learns it in kindergarten! I am not a child anymore!"
"No problem," answered the man, without any sign of offense. "You've learned it in a kindergarten; what do you remember?"
"They had to separate. Lot went away from Abraham and settled in civilized Sodom's region. But that place became bad luck for him. The judgment of God doomed that whole civilization. His only option to stay alive was to leave his home and run away. Two angels came to help him reach a secure refuge before the destruction started. Once Lot was safe, fire came from heaven and completely erased the entire region! It's a terrible story. Poor Lot!"
"All right. That's a good start. But now, as an adult, you can learn more from this story. You can draw a positive message out of it, a wisdom that will help you fortify your base."
"Go ahead, tell me your version."
"I will try. It was not the place that brought bad luck for Lot but his own decision. Luck has nothing to do with how our lives turn out but rather our choices. The whole land was before him, no one forced him to settle in Sodom, but he wanted that for himself and his family. Abraham gave him a right to choose first, being willing to accept the remaining option gladly. The question was not right or left, but how would you make your choice. The sparkles of a civilized Sodom attracted Lot because an abundant water supply caused rapid growth and development. It wasn't healthy for him, though, because sin was also there in abundance. One day, its dirty rivers came to his door and almost broke out into his personal life. In the unfolding of those events became clear that all this time, Lot was homeless without a secure refuge. He had to, as you said, run for his life. He escaped the destruction due to his uncle's intervention. Abraham interceded before the only One who could influence the outcome.
"Of course, such a difference! Abraham's dwelling was always secure, no troubles!"
"The difference between them is hidden in Abraham's choice from long before. His story goes back to when the Almighty made him a promise. He said to Abraham: 'Walk before Me and be thou blameless…,' and Abraham chose to walk before the Almighty. He entrusted to God all his matters and let Him lead the journey. But to follow, Abraham had to examine everything that came his way, including every counsel, idea, and business proposal, to accept one and to say no to another. God Himself assumed responsibility for securing Abraham's dwelling everywhere he went. To secure your dwelling is a basic element of life. You carry out all your actions from that place. Your material house is only a small particle of that design."
Suddenly we arrived at a sign that read: "Everything for your home," and the man stopped. He pointed to the sign and said: "Now go and buy solid building material."
"Please come with me," I asked him. "I want to make sure to get the right stuff."
"No, you need to go there alone," he said firmly. Maturity requires learning to make the right choices on your own. But you need to know something about that site: they have everything, but you don't need everything they have. To build a solid secure base, you need to be very selective and choose with understanding. Some folks don't take it seriously and never invest in quality building materials, like insight and discernment; instead, the sparkles attract them, which are always on sale.
Take care of the details and build a quality sewage system. Remember Lot! Once the stench breaks out, you will have to run for your life. Remember Abraham! The blessing of the Almighty will make your dwelling sure and your days in it filled with a fragrance of well-being."
He got a small screwdriver from his pocket and handed it to me. "You would need to put it all together now. Building is a complex process, but don't get carried away in too much action, remember that through it all God is building you."
Growing Process
Letter Gimel
My father was a military man, and he was rarely home. Every time he would come for a vacation, my mom would be busy cleaning and ironing his uniform while I had a chance to go out to see a movie with him. I especially loved those action Superman movies.
The story was not as important to me as the hero, who was typically a man, a fighter who confronted evil in one way or another. He was tall, handsome, audacious, and determined to win. He had higher aspirations for life than ordinary people, and was infused with supernatural power. He would respond fearlessly to some injustice and free others from danger by performing mighty exploits. Towards the movie's end, this hero usually overcame, good prevailed over evil, and the hero was rewarded and glorified.
My dad would take me for an ice cream treat in a bistro when the movie was over.
"What's for you, cub?" the waitress would ask me.
"Just the usual," I would answer like a man.
My father would always order for himself a strong drink, explaining to me that he needed to clear his throat. I would sit there, all excited from the movie and even more because my father was sitting right next to me. I was proud of him. He was like a superman in a movie, a tough guy, a real man! Usually, after a few gulps, he would share with me about his service in the military, and I would always be so eager to listen. "You've seen that hero in a movie?" He would shoot his question at me and go straight to the point. "My job is to produce those guys. I teach my soldiers to mobilize their potential and develop their fighting skills. I instruct them to boost their strength and not shrink in the face of danger, overcome the challenges, cause things to happen and reach the heights. I train them to be tough and realize their great destiny. Otherwise, they will be crushed or towed by their enemies into exile or expelled from real life. This world is not for dwarfs; you cannot afford the luxury of not growing." These were the highlights of my childhood years.
One day my father came home and announced that his regiment had moved to another part of the country and that we would live far away from there.
The years passed. Now I was just about the age to enlist in the army when I traveled to visit the town where I grew up. Among other places, I entered a bistro, where my father would take me after movies. It has been a long time. I was tall, strong, and muscled; nobody would call me a chick or a cub like before. Suddenly, I heard someone calling:
"Hey, is it really you? What a surprise! You've missed us, ah?"
I stooped to see the man talking to me but couldn't recognize him. He invited me to join him for a drink and started: "You don't remember me, but I sure do. A few years ago, you came here with your dad, who was in the military."
"Right. I was a kid then."
"Yes, you've grown. I still remember the stories your father shared about his soldiers. I bet you want to be a hero like he is. Are you gonna join the army soon?"
"Exactly."
"You don't seem to be very excited about it. I remember how you loved those superman adventures."
"It's true, but I'm unsure if I'm ready to be one."
"What is it you fear? Your father's expectations? Do you think he will denounce and rebuke you if you don't live up to them?"
"How could you see that? I thought those fears were well concealed."
The older man drank some more. "Today, I'm a gardener, but I've been around," he continued. "I served as a tracker during the war and I've learned to recognize people by their footprints."
"You mean, by the marks of their boots on the ground?"
"Also. But a footprint can be any mark of their passing that they leave behind them. Those marks can tell a lot about a person, but tell me about your dilemma, would you?"
"When I was little, I've learned that there are only two possible ways to live your life: you are either a superman hero or a coward, and I've seen those. They are usually underdeveloped, like dwarfs and stutterers, and ridiculed daily. They are limited in every possible way, never initiate anything, being only swept along into the agendas of others. They are shapeless and flexible in everyone's hands; by themselves, they can only slide down the hill; my father would classify them as 'cuttings of a tree.' I don't want to be one of them."
"You surely don't look like one," he added.
"Well, here's the thing, I don't want to be a tough guy either. As you've said, I have seen how they truly are, - footprints, as you say. They sure boost themselves physically and mentally to overcome, but I've seen them being rude and vulgar, acting violently, and engaging in plunder. I've seen them behaving very arrogant and abusive to those not defined as one of them, especially the weaker ones. Their marks are so disgusting, and I don't want to be one of them, not even for some higher cause, nor for the sake of a great destiny that my father always told me about!"
He paused, then nodded his head. "I see what you mean. The ideal superman is a macho guy, tough and arrogant, clear black and white pattern, no shades allowed. If you don't fit this pattern, you're a wimp and cannot be defined as a real man, right?"
"How do you know? Did you watch those movies?" I wondered.
"No, but I've been around," he said again, "and I've seen that men, indeed not less than women, love to show off and impress one another. For that reason, they create all those behavior patterns, like costumes in a show. This can be very attractive, especially for a tender young boy.
Chasing to embody this superman's image, boys start to imitate the manners of the "tough guy." The pattern must be followed precisely; tears are not allowed, you may be ridiculed as weak for your compassion. All of that must be clipped and cut off to the root. As life unfolds, they can easily get carried away, their inflamed ego being their primary drive, constantly feeling an urge to be on top in every situation at whatever cost. They assume themselves as superior to others, the so-called "purebred." From there are derived the violence and abuse, you've mentioned.
Once filled to overflowing, it is no small effort to contain it. It grows into a movement, and a war breaks out. This superiority drive revolves into excess, bursting out like a volcanic eruption. When the explosion is on its way, the pressure may rise so high that it becomes beyond control. Its destructive lava swallows everything on its way, sweeping away so many lives. Millions are dying in agony as a result of that. What is left? History books and names organized in archives in alphabetical order and monuments of heroes, who performed mighty exploits but details are scratched away."
"But how can I respond to this challenge as a man? I don't want to be drawn to one side or the other. I feel a foreigner to both of them."
"These distinctions are superficial, they only deal with the external elements, but you can change your approach and look at the core instead. You will find a different range of choices there below the surface."
"How can I do that?" I asked, perplexed.
"You must go back to the basics and redefine what a real man is. The story about David, for example, was a real discovery for me and marked my life as a warrior. It happened back when Saul was a king over Israel and David was yet a little shepherd boy, the youngest in the family; his task was to tend the sheep of his father Jesse. One day war broke out, and David's brothers joined the army and went to fight. The enemy's army leader was a giant named Goliath, who was much bigger and taller than ordinary people; he was extreme and unapproachable, rude, tough, and inspiring fear. His army was proud to have a warrior like him. Goliath was their superman hero.
Every day he would come out to the battle line in the valley to mock and curse King Saul and his soldiers. He was demanding a man from Saul's army to come to fight with him one on one."
"So, who was that man of valor and courage?"
"All the soldiers were afraid to face Goliath; they ran from him, wailing in terror. The same story continued until one day, little David came to visit his brothers in the army camp and heard the giant's threats.
'I will go,' he said to King Saul. 'I'm not afraid to confront him.'
He stood his ground when other soldiers and his brothers started to ridicule him. Compared to other soldiers, David was small, young, and insignificant. He didn't appear to be tough, but obviously, he had everything needed to fight Goliath and to end that outbreak of abuse. He courageously confronted Goliath and killed him; his hidden secret was his prior experience."
"Of killing giants?" I interrupted.
"You may say that. As a young shepherd boy, he assumed responsibility for the flock of sheep entrusted to him and courageously protected his territory. Whenever a lion or bear broke through the borders to steal one of his sheep, he fought like a hero and overcame. That's why confrontation with Goliath was not extraordinary for David; he simply continued the natural course of his life, protecting his territory, and removing just another obstacle in front of him. This kind of man you want to have around, someone who knows who he is and will not panic in the face of danger. David possessed an inner strength, which became obvious to everyone in a time of need."
"I guess some people have it and others don't." I pondered.
"No, everyone has it," he assured me. "You see our Creator has a big barn of grain and plants in the garden of our lives a grain of greatness. This grain is the essence of inner strength and valor. It carries the best possible pattern for your life as a reward, but it takes time to take shape and materialize. To bridge the beginning and the end; you need to embrace the growing process."
"What do you mean?" I still didn't understand.
"David saw this grain of greatness planted in his garden and understood that his life has a high value in God's eyes. This value became the focal point of all his gardening; it helped him overcome every challenge.
David was fighting his daily battles, one after the other. No one saw his victories, but David was not concerned about being seen. The process of developing inner strength doesn't happen in front of others. Same with the plants: the essential growth happens underground, in the roots, which empower the whole plant to burst forth. It works for everyone. The battles you win in your secret private life are your major resource of strength. By winning many underground battles, he became a mighty man of valor, strong on the inside. This inner strength solidifies your entire being, and even your scars heal quickly."
"Ah, the men talk again!" dropped the waitress as she passed by. She turned to me with a big smile and affirmed, "Having man around requires someone who knows how to wash smelly socks!"
"It's also true" -- the older man looked at the waitress as she was walking away and added -– this one is a true woman of valor, but that's another story."
He took out an old book from the inner pocket of his coat and handed it to me, saying, "I want you to keep this. I fought many battles, and this book was my backup manual through all of them. It speaks about David and many other men and women, who lived extraordinary lives, having the greatness of the Almighty engraved on their hearts."
An Open Door
Letter Dalet
Trilogy
Part One
I was on my way out.
"Wait a second," said my mom, catching me at the door. She stood on tiptoe to kiss me on the forehead, then, looking at me with admiration, she declared, "I'm so proud of you! Your last year of school. Life is before you, son."
And I went on my familiar road to school.
After summer vacation, our school yard and the school building looked smaller, as if they shrank -- or maybe they stayed the same, but I grew -- especially those few steps at the main entrance. When it was my first time going up, it seemed like climbing a mountain, and today I could easily jump over all of them at once. I sat down in my class in my usual place and looked through the window. One more year, and I will fly out of here into the free world to be whoever I want!
"Good morning, everyone," said our teacher entering the classroom. He looked at us, trying to recognize those little children we were in the first grade, and shook his head. "Wow, it's hard to imagine how much you grew! This year you are already on your way out."
"Are you going out with us or are you staying?" shouted a guy with the nickname big mouth. "Do you know that there is life outside these four walls?"
Our teacher wasn't surprised; he continued right on.
"Stop talking now, I'm the teacher here, and this year we start a new subject called orientation. In searching for your way in life, it's important to identify a door to enter, so we will start with an essay called 'My future life.' You have a whole hour for this assignment. I suppose you already have some ideas about how it will turn out. As you picture your life in your mind, there is usually an example you want to follow or a certain image you want to resemble. You may not arrive there in one night, but instead gradually. It can be a political figure or any other history maker, a wise man, a warrior, a famous actor, or a religious leader. It will be someone who ignited a fire inside you."
"You mean someone super cool and sexy?" The same guy interrupted him again. "And did you mention that one night will not be enough?"
"You better stop talking and start writing," suggested the teacher.
Big mouth turned to the class as if they were his audience and concluded, "This is a different generation, can't help it! Let us write!"
"Now I demand silence," said the teacher rather patiently and sat down.
And it finally became quiet. I looked at a blank piece of paper in front of me and couldn't come up with anything. Then I looked around; all the others were writing, even the big mouth. I thought, "maybe he was telling the rest of the class what to do, not the teacher?" I wondered why nobody ever dared to stand up to him. He was stirring up trouble in every lesson, it disturbed all of us, but all the others preferred to remain silent. That looked like an agreement, which in turn looked like an approval. Even our teacher, why was he particularly patient and tolerant towards him? Was he afraid of him? I had to admit that I didn't want to confront him either.
I tried to concentrate but couldn't get my thoughts together, and I looked around again and saw everyone caught up in their imagination. By the expression on their faces, I could tell the image they were writing. That girl wants to be a model, and that one dreams of becoming a movie star. That guy would like to be someone of a very high rank in the army. That one wants to be the best football player and another one dreams of discovering something new, and that one wants to be a missionary and travel to many poor countries to preach.
The task was not really that difficult. I needed to find an image to resemble and get a plan. But traveling through that world of images and illusions, I got lost. I didn't want to copy someone else. I felt that if I were to write this essay, I would commit myself to a specific model and become labeled with that stereotype for the rest of my life. I didn't even touch that blank piece of paper as if it presented some contagious disease.
"Your time is up," announced the teacher and got up to collect our essays. When he came to my table, he exclaimed, "Why didn't you write anything? Couldn't you use your imagination?"
"Sorry," I stammered. I couldn't even talk. My mind went blank.
"He hasn't got any imagination, cause his brains are diluted," the big mouth shouted suddenly. Immediately the class's attention was on me. "His brains are swimming in orange juice inside his head! Who will be able to draw all that liquid out of there?" yelled the other guy, who was always the first to copy the big mouth.
"Oh, yea! We need a big bucket to get the job done!" someone else from the crowd answered. They thrust me and started to push me from every side. I heard mocking voices all around me:
"Meager brain!"
"He is lean! Let's beat him up!"
"He is already decaying! Can't you smell it?"
"He is no use anyway; his whole body is atrophied!"
I couldn't handle the stress anymore and thought, "This is it. In one minute, I'll be totally crushed," as I heard the voice of the big mouth saying, "Don't talk to him! He is already knocked out, can't help it!"
Suddenly all became very quiet and looked to him as a guide. The big mouth concluded, "It is forbidden to beat up someone in the school, but not forbidden to tickle," and he left in total silence.
How quickly everything changed, at least on the outside. My classmates didn't look aggressive at all; in fact, no one was even looking in my direction. There seemed to be a silent agreement where secret information was transmitted from one mind to the other.
Without saying a word, I made it to the door. Leaving my classroom, I felt like I stepped out of a show where a precise role was ascribed to everyone, into the real world. I was determined to find my own way.
Part Two
Life should be very different somewhere else. My thoughts started to wander, and soon, following those wandering thoughts, my feet brought me to a train station. It seemed like a world unto itself.
As I walked through the door, I immediately saw a large group of people, all running in the same direction, trying to catch a particular train, which was about to leave. They pushed each other with their elbows, trying to get ahead faster, fearing being left behind. I had just arrived there and couldn't understand what was happening, but seeing their urgency prompted me to go faster, even to the point of starting to run with them. What if I miss something significant? I was not the only one to join that running crowd. I saw others merging from every side. Being a fast runner, I quickly happened to be among the first. It was impossible to stop because I was caught up in the movement of stress. I noticed an old gentleman with a little suitcase only a few steps ahead. He was slowly trying to move in the opposite direction. "This man is weird! He doesn't understand," I thought, and before I knew it, I bumped into him, knocking him off his feet. Trying to help him up was the hardest; we both were pushed and pressed by the running crowd, presenting an obstacle to their movement. "Please don't step on my suitcase!" pleaded the man, but no one was listening. I grabbed his hand, picked up his suitcase from the floor, and pushed my way out of there into freedom.
"Thanks for helping me out," said the stranger, finally gaining his breath back. "And sorry for causing you to miss your train."
"Which train?"
"The one you were trying to catch. Without your help, I would surely be run over and trampled under those feet."
"You're welcome, but I didn't plan to catch a train. I joined the movement maybe for the feeling of something different. I don't exactly understand what happened to me."
"I know exactly what happened to you. Life is the same everywhere!" he answered, placing his suitcase on his knees.
I'd never seen such a suitcase before. It had so many beautiful colorful stickers with flags of different countries!
"Have you been to all those places?" I exclaimed.
"Yes, I traveled and for the same reason. I also once believed that 'grass is greener on the other side,' so at eighteen, I got my passport and traveled around the world to check if people are different elsewhere."
I didn't want to interrupt and silently waited for him to continue.
"The places can be quite different, but the people are exactly the same everywhere. All people suffer from the same contagious disease called anxiety. The state of solicitude seems to be the rule of a game, which everyone agrees to play. Whatever matter of concern it might be -- not being good enough, not being able to make ends meet, being lost, or rejected, missing an opportunity, failure, hunger, sickness, sword -- the list can go on and on, you name it. This nervousness and worry are in the human blood, I guess."
"I would rather be a fish in the sea that swims in water, enjoying its freedom, or a bird that glides so free in the sky." I announced my conclusion.
"I thought of that too, but all animal world is playing exactly the same game. It's stunning how precisely the animals follow its rules! To the details!"
"But how can you understand -- Come on, I know that fish doesn't even speak --"
"You're right about that, but if they could speak -- Imagine dubbing a silent movie."
"Can you tell me more? What are they saying?" I insisted.
He agreed. "I never heard a fish conversation before, but I suppose it should be similar to a human’s; probably something like this:
"I want to swim far away and explore," dreams a little fish. "I will arrive at magnificent coral beaches and see exotic islands!"
"Stop hallucinating, child!" rebuked the others, more experienced fish. "Swimming in water only seems to be fun. Staying alive demands a lot of effort and care. Daily you need to find food and solve many practical problems. And on top of that, you can be swallowed at any minute by a predator. There are too many destructive wild fish nowadays. You cannot make it alone!"
"What should I do then?" asks little fish, all distressed and perturbed. How should I live?"
"The only chance you have is to join a shoal," they tell her. "It is so much easier to swim through life as a group member! The regulars get even more advantages like more shares of the food and a more secure position within the shoal. Make sure you talk and act exactly like everyone else in the group! Learn from our example, and you'll be safe!”
“You may call it different names: a herd for animals, a flock for birds; communities and organizations for humans."
"You mean they are like us, or we are like them? I've never heard an explanation like that before."
"Who knows, but we behave so much alike. Following anxiety and the fear of missing out, we join large groups only for the feeling of being in, which, in turn, provides security and significance. Everyone in any group has an ascribed role with communication patterns and established values. Every member of a group is aware of those norms; they represent the pulse of the group, teaching all its members to vibrate together. In some cases, they exist in the form of a booklet as written guidelines, and in others are only spoken, but a collective cannot survive without them. Those norms describe an appropriate, required behavior for its members."
I wanted to tell him what happened in my school that morning, but he went on.
"You surely already experienced being outside and inside a group. Those norms must be followed precisely by all who want to stay in. Whoever observes them accurately is considered the best, an exemplary member."
"But people cannot all have the same opinion." I was puzzled.
"They don't need their individual opinion anymore; they learn to skip over it. The emphasis changes. They either agree or disagree with the group's opinion, and that choice determines whether they are in or out. What counts the most is their loyalty to the values and regulations of the group. This is the game they love to play."
"Hey! You play a game to win. Does a winner get something?" I felt more and more engaged in the subject.
"Certainly! A winner gets a higher rank in the hierarchy structure, like fish in a shoal. The higher the rank, the more privileges you get in life."
"But people value different things, even different categories."
"Whatever category, whether wealth, power, prestige, recognition and fame, whatever you want to pursue, you pay an entrance fee and start racing from one stage to another. People everywhere are so stressed out to progress in their hierarchical structures. One spurs its horse to gallop faster, and another one pushes on the gas pedal of his automobile, whatever means they got. It can really get chaotic."
"How do they know where to run? Is it also in the blood?" I inquired.
"Usually, each collective has an image up front for its members to pattern after. This image is considered to be the "best of a kind" and becomes the example for others. That person represents success, happiness, and fulfillment. Once an optimal standard of a follower gets established, the next step would be to install an incubator in that place and start producing new members as close to the matrix example as possible. Naturally, that example grows into an image that all members are supposed to admire and adhere to. 'You are so great!' they declare. "Be our god! We will follow you and serve you." They raise up a flag and plead their allegiance to it. In that stage, it's only a matter of details: paint a portrait of a chosen image, upgrade norms into dogma and get busy teaching the doctrine.
The world has different images for you to choose from. Each one stands on top of the hierarchy ladder that you're supposed to climb. Once you've chosen an image to resemble, you've entered their game and have to follow."
"I still don't understand what causes such deterioration," I thought aloud. "Not all of the examples are bad ones. In our last summer camp, for example, we had an excellent football coach. He was the coolest guy I've ever met, a pleasure to be around. Others were almost sticking to him; he was the center and the heart of each gathering. He had very special methods of exercising and an exceptional sense of humor. I should have written my essay about him. I even have his picture in my wallet. Would you like to see it?"
"You want to be like him?" asked the man, looking at the photograph.
"Yes!"
He paused and took a deep breath, then responded.
"Good examples are important in every stage of life; each one is a spokesman with a message. Each of them opens a door for you to enter, but if you're not watchful, you will miss the most important."
Part Three
"Please tell me more!" I felt like waking up from sleep. “I don't want to miss the most important!"
"Our Creator, the invisible God, created man in His own image and likeness. This is the purpose of our existence: to get to know Him and reflect His image. Nothing less can give you lasting happiness and fulfillment."
"Wait a second. You've said He is invisible. No one can know what He is like then. How can I resemble something I've never seen?"
"He reveals Himself in the word He spoke, and those who know Him are lighted by His eternal light and shine in this world of darkness."
"I know you're talking about religion," I said and put a mean mask on my face. "I've heard scholars before. They study and research and then interpret the word of God for the rest of us."
"No," he continued without the slightest sign of offense. "Religion isn't the answer; it may only seem like one. It has hierarchy structures of its own. Each different interpretation of Scripture has its norms, images, and judges. In each denomination, people write their commentaries, print them, and spread them among their followers. They, in turn, promote those writings to the level of the Scripture itself and teach you to resemble a portrait they painted. But you don't need to resemble those portraits; you must walk the way for yourself.
I bowed my head and admitted, "I am searching for my own way, but I got lost. And your explanations didn't make it easier for me, sorry."
"Well, it's important to identify the possible traps on the road you're walking. Now let's move on deeper." He picked up his suitcase and asked me,
"Remember how you were so attracted to these colorful flags? Though they are only symbols, like different ideas you adhere to, you can carry an image upon your life, like a sticker on a suitcase. It can make you look bright, intelligent, or important, exactly like an image you choose to resemble.
As I told you, God, our Maker, is invisible, and His image isn't a picture. People can only lead you to conform to a picture or an external form, but God invites you into Himself. As you hear His words and respond to Him, you will perceive the way."
"What do you mean?" I interrupted him. "Give me an example!"
"Sure," he responded. "Abraham would be a good example of this process. He didn't want to conform to the way people around him lived but didn't know another way. He had no image to resemble, no pattern to follow. But he has heard the voice of the Almighty calling him to step out onto an unusual journey into a land of great blessing.
Abraham had to leave behind what he had learned so far and everything familiar to him. He obeyed and started walking on the road he didn't know.
Nobody went that way before him. He had to rely totally on God as His guide.
"I am more of a visual learner," I interrupted again. I would not be able to do that."
"God can create an image in your heart if you open a door for Him to do that.
One night, He took Abraham outside and said, 'Look at the sky and see if you can count the stars. That's how many descendants you will have.' * Or, on another occasion, the Almighty pictured Abraham's descendants as the dust of the earth, impossible to count! ** Abraham looked upon the world around him, letting God explain the meaning of what he saw. He was taking on God's point of view, connecting to His words, and allowing God to imprint His image inside his heart. Focused on that image, he could walk the road into the promised land of great blessing. But it started on the inside.
It's much easier now." The man opened his little suitcase and got a book out, saying: "The words of God are recorded."
"Oh, we have the Scriptures at home. The book looks just a little different."
"What's inside is much more important," he responded with a smile. "Open it like a door and follow its lead. These life-giving words will paint His image inside you. You will carry the imprint of God's image upon your heart and walk your original way.
You're not the only one. God is calling many today through His word. True follow-through requires walking the way for yourself, which can be thorny, dark, and dangerous. An example stands as a forerunner in those difficult places and encourages you: 'Come on! You can do it! Trust me; I've been there! It's not the end!' That can make quite a difference in the time of struggle and help you persevere instead of giving up."
I felt like someone switched on a light inside me that compelled me to return to my class. I got up.
"I have to go now; I have to walk the way," I said to the man.
"Let the word of God be a light unto your path and a lamp unto your feet.* Check every day that this light doesn't go out." And he got up as well.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"I'm surely older than you, but I didn't finish my road yet. I'm eager to explore what is still unknown to me, like that little fish."
He gently took me by the arm, saying, "Let me walk with you to the door."
* Genesis 15:5
* * Genesis 13:16
A Movement from the inside
Letter Hei
I was walking towards -- I don't remember, but does it really matter? At a certain point, I approached the fork in the road and hesitated, not knowing which way to take.
Indecisive, I started to contemplate and ponder on my journey in this life, trying to discover logic someplace. I enjoyed simply being present in the present moment.
I was slowly absorbing the reality around me. It kept growing inside of me till it impregnated my inner being, and I began to envision it. I saw multitudes in great confusion. The noise coming from them echoed in my soul. They were driving each other out from relationships, workplaces, and territories. For the sake of glory and wealth, they were killing each other, destroying at the same time their own lives.
I saw this world going wild. Despite different ways of life, all the people seemed to participate in one global scenario unfolding in their midst. Some were stunned, others nodded their heads in agreement, others gambled, yet others mocked and cursed everything. Here and there, someone would raise his voice in a vain attempt to be heard; any minute, the world would turn upside down.
I could tangibly experience a shock every time another soul got clipped to this endless tumult.
I continued to meditate, and a very different sound appeared in my reflections. A heartbeat of the Creator resounded inside me. With the eyes of my heart, I perceived the One, who is existence itself, who forms and brings everything into being; the One, who can transform and change everything in creation.
My whole being rose to Him in praise: Hallelujah!
I bowed down and said: Here I am. Send me.
Ps.74:12 "But You O God, are my king from the old; you bring salvation upon the earth."
Choose to Connect
Letter Vav
Somewhere in a little village lived a man with three sons. The boys grew, and the man got older. One day they all sat down at the table, and the man held a little ancient hook in his hand.
"Father, what's the point of keeping this? It's too old; it will easily break! You should replace it with a new one," asserted the oldest.
"Oh, we can find a use for this someday," endorsed his second son. "Plus, it's a memory."
"Why are you keeping it, father? Is there a purpose?" asked the youngest.
Instead of answering, the old man took a deep breath and said, "I want all of you to go into the big world and see if you can find anything to hold onto. Go on your journey, and may God be with you!"
The next morning all three sons left, turning each one to a different road.
After many years, they returned home and sat down to tell their stories. The oldest started.
"I found my connection to this world. I used my talent to speak eloquently and to prove my opinion to others. Confronted by my opponents, I fought and overcame. I stood up for my rights in every situation, and many people approved of me. I could manage a difficult debate, presenting surprising arguments. People esteemed me as a brilliant personality. I became accepted, valued, and even admired."
The old man shook his head and said, "They will exalt you, and they will reject you, for this is the habit of men."
Then the second son presented his story.
"I knew I'm talented and intelligent, but I chose the other way.
I always chose to give way to other people, giving up all my rights, opinions, and feelings. In every situation, I tried to keep the people around me so they would like me and want to be my friends. And I succeeded. Many others appreciated me. They all considered me a helping and a very caring person."
The old man shook his head again and said, "They will use you, and they will forget you, for this is the habit of men."
Then the youngest son opened his mouth and said,
"I have to confess, father. I was not preoccupied with connecting to other people, even though true friendship and love are very dear to me. You wished God would be with us, and I treasured His company throughout my journey. In every situation, I wanted to make sure that my words and actions aligned with what I knew to be true. His divine approval is what I hold on to."
The old man smiled and quietly said, "This connection will carry you much further than any place in our big world. This connection is an eternal treasure."
Business Decision
Letter Zayn
Gen.1:17-19
"…male and female He created them. God blessed them and said to them: Be faithful and increase in number, fill the earth and subdue it… Then God said: "I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food".
We come into this world, carrying a seed of our fathers, passed through generations. This little seed represents our identity. In some cases it gets cultivated through family traditions and special environment, but not everyone is so privileged. Anyway, as long as this secret seed is inside, you can figure out who you are…
One day I went to discover a mysterious business world of the adults. Upon entering, I immediately heard: "Welcome to the world of your dreams! Here everyone can become a singer. Our song festival starts tomorrow. We provide all the orchestration. Catch the opportunity of your life and do not waste time!" A master of intrigues met me at the gate with a question: "Why are you standing here alone, like if you had no value? Come on in; let me introduce you to some important and influential people here…" - and he quickly dived into the crowd.
A couple approached me. They looked at me from different angles and said: "You're not eating right! All the participants in the song festival have to meet certain requirements of shape and weight. You need special food supplements that will enrich your diet. Don't waste time! We will explain everything to you and will be your suppliers…”
But before I could respond, another couple approached me. "Who is your singing partner? - They questioned me. - You need to have one for the festival!” They scanned me from head to toe and concluded: "You're not old yet. We will find a compatible partner and will get you started. Don't waste time! Come over here and start blending in…”
But before I could make my first step in that direction, yet another couple approached me. "Look at you! – They exclaimed, - you don't fit here! You look like a total stranger! People won't' be able to recognize you, unless you own at least a few of those beautiful fine things of this world! The shine of the gold will surely help you to identify yourself!”
I never felt in such a state of need as in that moment. I almost fainted… The master of intrigues hastened to my rescue:
"All those changes only seem so dramatic, - He said; - in fact, they are only a few simple adjustments to make. Let me take care of the details. Trust me, I'm a master. I can arrange a very good deal for you, very cheap, - that will guarantee your prominence among all the other singers."
I still didn't understand: "What I need to do?"
“Come with me and you'll see, but speed up, since we don't have a whole lot of time."
At the end of a long corridor, he opened a door before me, saying: "You are welcome to a secret place". In the middle of that room stood a strange altar.
“Am I gonna die now?”
“Oh no! - He almost laughed, - It's a very simple motion. I'll explain to you quickly: One injection and your identity will drip out of you. We'll take the seed out and give you your identity right back. It will look exactly the same as your original one. You won't even notice any difference from the outside. Nobody will ever know that it's a false one; this deal will remain in secret… Come on! You need cash now, don't you? You don't want to sacrifice your great opportunity for recognition! This is the most important business decision you should make.”
I needed help and looked around… On every wall the word "Whoredom" was written in all different languages. I started to shudder, but in attempts to hide it, inquired:
“What are you doing with those seeds? Are they kept some place?”
“Oh, no! Once they are out, who needs them? But in our leading business we do not waste anything! We scatter them on the ground to serve as a fertilizer.”
I was trying to win more time.
“What would be in a place of my seed?”
“Not to worry, we have most advanced techniques: One option, the most popular is to coat a hole with tar. The other option is to glaze it. There is always a bigger price to pay for a higher quality, but you are eligible for a credit. How does it look to you?”
“It looks like …filth…”
“Oh, no! - He interrupted , - You are distorting the reality, but I can help you. You are saying this only because you're looking from a wrong angle. Adult business world will teach you to find a right perspective to look at things. You will understand it much better, once you'll learn – when to creep and when to stand in an upright position. But for now, just trust me, just flow!”
I gathered all my efforts, trying to stand up on the inside and said: "But if a flow is contaminated, what would change if I look at it from a different angle?!”
He was enraged: "You are contaminated yourself! I don't want to waste my precious time with you!
I need to be available for the new comers!” - And he left in fury.
And then I remembered… a story that my father told me when I was a child. A story about two brothers: Jacob and Esau. There was a special identity, called "birthright". Esau was the firstborn and had all the chances, but he neglected it:
Gen.25:32 "…Esau said; "What good is the birthright to me?"
He sold his birthright for a portion of lentil soup. Esau despised his right to be a carrier of a seed and sold it. Of cause, in exchange he received what he was craving for at that moment under those circumstances; but as a result, he missed the blessing of his father. But Jacob won to become a carrier of the promise, blessing and covenant with the Almighty. And I remembered so clear: after telling me that story, right before I felt asleep, my father hugged me and said: "You are Jacob. Be careful not to lose your right of identity".
"What a horror! Your story made me shaking!' – You may say.
I'm glad you recognize it for what it is, but isn't it much better to shake before then after?
Price of Freedom
Letter Het
Holidays and ordinary days come to us together in the same package of life. They are taking turns, replacing each other with constant regularity. Their repeated exchange represents our life circulation.
Holidays in particular are there like special stations to stop and rest from a weary movement. Their main function is to make us look for the extraordinary… Right before an entrance of a holiday, life usually accelerates, as though people need to get things done in a last moment in order to appear more prepared for some important meeting, to get a special mark of approval or simply not to be less than others…
It was one of those days. I was thinking about all that, waiting for a red light to turn into green. But the traffic light didn't change for a long time, maybe it was broken… Cars kept rushing towards their destinations and I had to remain in the same place. I couldn't' freely move to continue my way. I had to wait! "How ridiculous, - I thought, - I have to wait all this time for someone's stupid permission to progress with my life! This keeps me in bondage… I want freedom!" My whole being echoed with the voices of multitudes, crying: "Freedom! We want Freedom!"
At this time an old man approached the intersection and asked me to help him to cross over to the other side. I agreed and offered him my hand. As soon as I took it, the light turned into green and we crossed together. He turned to me and said: "I want to thank you, young man" and handed me a strange looking coin. One side of it was gold and the other silver. Before I opened my mouth to ask, he explained: "This is like holidays and ordinary days. In our ordinary days we work, create and progress and during the holidays we stop our agenda and rest, we remember our Creator and His eternal purpose in our lives. We need them both, just like grace and wisdom." The stranger smiled and suddenly disappeared.
The holiday fiest was over. "Good night my boy, - said my mom, - turning the light off, - have sweet dreams!"
I closed my eyes… and saw myself on a journey, searching for freedom. In my dream I was walking on one of those little forest roads that overlap each other. "When I will find freedom, I will surely recognize it for what it is!" – I thought to myself and saw the first person crossing my path. I hurried to come closer to meet him:
“Hello. I'm a stranger here and I go to find freedom… There are so many roads to choose from, it's hard to figure out the right one…”
“Freedom… - He nodded his head, - What a sweet word. This is exactly what my mission is - I fight for freedom. See our society has turned into one big conflict and we have to fight to be free from it.”
“Is there a positive solution?” – Ii asked, trying to understand what he meant.
“Of cause. This solution is called: elimination. Different methods can be useful like: kidnapping and other provocation; strangulation, beating and other injury. Often it grows into a violent destruction with lots of damage, but the main point in all this fight is: to eliminate the wrong people, so that there be a peaceful, free and harmonious society.”
I shuddered from his words, but didn't want to show it.
“So, your solution is to kill and destroy… Then you all are great sinners and you will answer for it.”
“Hey, you sound like you still wearing diapers… You said you're new here, so that explains it. Take my word for it: to get rid of the bad ones is the quickest and the surest way to a conflict free world! And by the way, we are all sinners… more or less – what difference will it make?”
“I'm not sure of that…”
“Listen stranger… or whatever you call yourself: You want to stay alive – keep out of conflict!” - And he left.
"I'm glad my way is different from his" – I thought and immediately saw another person. This time it was a fellow, sitting in the middle of crossroads, wearing his pajamas. I didn't feel like starting another conversation, but he asked me:
“Did you come to bring me freedom?”
“No, I'm looking for it myself. But as I understand, everyone has to find freedom on his own.”
“O, I see that you never been really sick before… But I'm sick for many years and I've seen a lot of this life already. - His smile reflected all those years of suffering. - Freedom is a magic immunization, once infused into your body, it keeps you healthy forever.”
“Really? Such infusion exists?”
“No, It hasn't been invented yet, but nowadays technology develops so fast… That is why I'm sitting here in the middle of crossroads, so that people would see my condition and have pity on me. I'm sure this compassion will inspire them to invent this miracle solution.”
“Don't you want to recover in a meantime? - I interrupted him. - Look at you: you became so pale and covered with wounds; let me put you a bandage…”
“O no! I'm suffering for the good of all the others. See, our society is all sick; but once everyone will get this miracle injection, people will be healthy both in their body and spirit! This project of waiting costs me a lot -– freedom is surely not for free! I pass my lonely days here very weak and discouraged, my life turned to be so empty and sour. Probably I will die even before the invention of this infusion…”
"God forbid!"
“Please do me a favor, I beg you. When it happens, embalm my dead body and let my mummy remain in this place for the future generations to remember me and continue to hope for the freedom injection!”
“I will try. - My promise sounded very weak and I already regretted it. - I feel very sorry for you”, - I said to him and thought that I shouldn't wait there even a minute longer.
I looked away from him and saw yet another fellow, walking straight towards me. "I will try to be on top with this one; - I thought and jumped straight on:
“Who are you?"
He stopped and scanned me slowly, all plunged in his thoughts, then said:
“I'm a social investigator and I will ask you questions you are to answer.”
“I don't have to answer anybody's questions!” - I protested.
“O yes, you do; simply because you are a part of the society. What if you provide a shelter to one of those dangerous elements?”
“I don't understand what you're talking about!”
“You're not listening to the news, are you? Otherwise you would know and be concerned. There are some very dangerous people within our society: the so called ‘dreamers’.”
“What's wrong with having a dream?”
“You see they envision some other freedom, different from the one, accepted by the system.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our society is held together by multiple connections within the system. Many different companies and associations make it work together as one unit and move in the same direction. But those dangerous elements, by proclaiming some other freedom, getting too far out from the norm and create controversy in our society. They proclaim their disagreement in underground meetings, where they hide from the legal consequences. Their sabotage does not allow the smooth functioning of our system.”
"…Do you plan to kill all the wrong ones?” - I interrupted him, suddenly remembering my first meeting.
"O no! This is not our job - to kill them. The opposite: we establish freedom and labor for the good of all people. For this very reason, those "wrong ones", like you said, have to be excommunicated from the society. My job as investigator is to examine the suspects, expose their intentions of damaging the system and start a legislative procedure.”
“I better get going…”
“Watch out there for anybody suspicious and exceptional! Everyone, who associates with those "dreamers", is automatically considered a ‘partner’.”
“Thank you sir. You've been very helpful, but I really need to go.”
Finally he continued his way and I continued mine… but not too far. My road ahead was blocked! I guess, someone simply decided that his agenda was more important than mine and that I had to give way to him. Insolence indeed!
Somewhere behind the barriers I saw people shouting loud in the same time, each one from his tribune, each one trying to be heard. "If I stay here long enough, I can become deaf", - I thought and made couple steps off the road. Immediately I saw another fellow, running in my direction.
“Which party are you voting for?” – He shot his question at me, without even introducing himself.
“I'm not voting. I'm on a journey of my own. I search for freedom and you are blocking my way.”
"We are sorry about this little inconvenience for you, but this event represents an important issue for our society.”
“I understand: Society is in danger.” - I said, trying to imitate a social investigator.
“I wouldn't put like this, but if you wish… Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm an accountant; I work right in the heat of that election campaign. My job is to count the voices for different competing parties.”
“What is the contest of their competition?” - I inquired.
“Freedom, of cause! This is the most essential human right. The party which will offer more freedom to the people, will win. We need you to express your opinion…”
"Listen to my opinion, - I was shocked of his ignorance, - I peacefully walk on my road and you block it without my permission! What can you possibly know about human rights?! Anyway, I don't want to wait here, I need to continue my journey!"
At that very moment I noticed another little road turning left and that was my way of escape.
"Welcome to the freedom domain!" – I heard, as soon as I stepped on that road. I saw a gentleman walking next to. me; he was finely dressed with biggest smile on his face. I looked around, trying to recognize freedom some place, but could not find it. Firmly deciding to keep my sound mind, I answered: "No, this is not freedom domain, you are lying!"
“Why being so aggressive? – He answered, keeping the smile. We all are on the way to a perfect freedom. But didn't you just experience a pleasant feeling of arrival, of finally possessing your desire?”
I couldn't say "no" and didn't want to say "Yes". He continued:
“I work with peoples' bank accounts and I know exactly what they need.”
“People need money, I know that far.”
“Well… Money is never enough for everyone. What people really need is to feel good about themselves. Our job is to create that feeling for them.”
"Interesting… What is it then?”
“Our magic method is called "credit". You see, people nowadays don't like to wait. They want fast solutions for everything. To supply this need we created a wonder program: "Have now – pay later". If you spend a large amount now, you will surely save at the end. People get what they desire and as a bonus they get a wonderful sensation of freedom – Freedom to spend large amounts and to satisfy their desires!”
“But once you spent all your money, this feeling will elude?”
“Who will agree to lose it? You can take another credit and yet another credit. One purchase rhymes with another, like a beautiful poetry.”
“What if you already got everything?”
“No problem! There are always newer versions of something people already have. Market is full of modern stuff to lust for.”
“But all this is so ephemeral…”
“What would be your option? - He threw the ball back at me, - For people to live their lives in lack and deficiency? We create a happy society – what can be better? Every new purchase provides a sensation of life renewal! We can always charge their accounts later on…”
“I start to understand your magic: You penetrate into peoples' pockets through their bank accounts and take away their means of sustenance!” - I boldly declared.
“Does it give you a good feeling to aggress me? You have to understand: We do not force or oblige anyone, it comes to people naturally.”
“In your smooth manner you make them slip straight into big debts. Your road is too slippery for me to walk on!” - I concluded and made a right turn off that road, feeling good about myself.
…And stepped right in the middle of nowhere. There was no road to follow. Cold wind of emptiness blew through my thoughts…What will I do now? Where to turn?
"Come over here! Want to join me for lunch?" - I heard a happy voice nearby and saw a man, enjoying his picnic on a chunk of a tree.
"That's very nice of you to invite me,” - I said and sat down next to him.
"I always have something to share with others, - he answered, - since I started to live free, my life became a daring adventure!”
“Wow!"
“Don't you see? Look around you: wild nature, no roads in view! Nobody tells you what to do; you are your own master! …Have you ever been on a road?”
“Oh, yes, - I answered with a voice of an expert. - I decided to go into the wild because of my disagreement…”
“Smart decision, - he interrupted me, - I also was walking on roads before - they are all the same, believe me. Once you step on it, you're engaged to follow the lead and everyone is convinced that his way is the true one.”
I could certainly relate to that. He went on:
“Our society is one big masquerade show: Everyone is playing a role. People disguise themselves in some important personalities, pretending to be wise, and posing in front of each other. One of the most terrifying roads is that of religious hypocrisy. Those guys invent so many regulations, which themselves cannot keep and hide behind a separation wall from the rest of the world! Roads are dangerous – they limit and control your free expression! One day I decided to be a part of the big life this world has to offer and not to cut myself from it anymore. I stepped out from bondage into freedom of being my own god. This alternative lifestyle is called – secular!”
“Hold on, I've heard that word before…” - I felt engaged in his story, but couldn't understand - how…
All of a sudden, he anxiously looked around and said:
“I have to hurry to find a place to sleep before dark. It was a pleasure talking to you!” - And he disappeared into wild forest.
“Good for you… but what am I supposed to do? I don't know my way around… Oh God! I want out of here! Help me!”
As soon as I prayed, I discerned a sound of approaching heavy boots. Before I could figure out my response, a fully equipped soldier was standing right in front of me.
“Are you my answer from above?” – I asked him.
His smile reflected strength and confidence. He reported: "I'm from a rescue unit. We serve all our people. We are guarding freedom, which is an assurance of living safely within your borders and certainty that no one will suddenly invade it to destroy you.”
“What if someone will still attack me?” - I doubted out loud.
“You see all this ammunition, - and he turned around, - don't be afraid, you're with me now. But I should take you out of here, for this is a very dangerous place.”
“To follow you would be the safest option for me,” - I agreed.
We went together and I didn't dare to ask him any more questions… Finally I was on a road again.
"You will figure it out from here", - said the soldier and left before I could thank him.
To my surprise, this road was made for cars. "I'm so tired. What a pleasure would be to sit a car and relax" – I thought and I stared walking on a side of that road.
“Hey buddy, you wanna ride? – Came a friendly voice from a car that stopped right next to me, - Jump right in!”
I gladly accepted the offer.
“You’ve read my thoughts, – I admitted to my new companion, making myself comfortable.
“Not exactly, but I love to act kindly and make new friends whenever I can. I embrace life everywhere I go. A great fellow like you will surely keep me a delightful company!”
I felt flattered. Wanting to return his compliment, I told him:
“This is a real nice car you're driving.”
“You've got it right, - he smiled back, - this is exactly who I am - A nice guy!”
“You are the first person I meet that rides a car here, why is that?” - I asked.
He looked like he was waiting for this question.
"In order to advance faster in our society, you need to know life. - He started, - People nowadays are drowning in their unfulfilled desires, underestimating the power of the positive approach. This is the hidden wisdom: Wanna good life – become a nice guy. Combined with a good sense of humor and a pinch of sensuality, charm and flattery can open every door! A little buttering up and the goodies of life are sliding right into your arms! Life turns its lovely side to you; it feels like as if you got wings and can fly to any height you want. This freedom is my everyday experience!
Who doesn't like the affection and the compliments? Charm will become your second nature. Simple life will become your pleasant hobby. Wrapped in everyone's love and sympathy, you will stand like a groom under a canopy…”
I admired my new friend. I opened my mouth to utter another compliment and suddenly saw a flashing road sign: "Freedom Exit".
“We need to exit here,” - I urged the driver.
"No, - he refused, - I have to hurry, that no one would grab my parking spot. Get your own car and then decide…
"Stop now! - I shouted in desperation, - I'm getting out right here!”
Piercing sound of the brakes… I opened the door and run towards the freedom exit. The sign was there, but in a thick darkness was impossible to see the road. I made my first step into the unknown… and here it was – straight ahead of me, - a beautiful gate, sparkling with many colors. "The Gate into freedom" -
I announced to myself and felt my heart jumping out from its place.
Coming closer, I realized that the gate was locked. Then I came really close, but to my surprise, it didn't open automatically. "So to find it was not enough… How can I enter then?” – I asked myself out loud.
“You would need to acquire wisdom,” - answered a stranger, slowly stepping out from the dark.
“You overheard my question?” – I asked a bit embarrassed.
“I didn't need to hear it; everyone asks the same question at this point. – He stretched out his hand to me, - Pleasure to meet you, I'm an educator.
“You are like one of my school teachers?”
“A little different, - He replied, - At school you can broaden your perspective on different domains of life, as your teacher presents to you study material, but education is a personal choice of everyone. Everyday life is your best educator; there you need to practically implement what you learn, you if choose to acquire wisdom.
Acquiring wisdom is much like plowing your field, in hope to grow something good on it; it's the major resource for growth like mother's milk for a baby.
You can become wise to resolve conflicts, wise to help the discouraged and to heal the sick, wise to take responsibility in life, wise to hold on to yourself in a terrifying situation. It will protect you from any wrong influence and teach you to manage your resources in the long term; it will lead you to live honestly with yourself and before God Almighty.”
“Sounds like wisdom is everything in life!” - I exclaimed.
“Wisdom is a necessary ingredient for freedom, but alone it would not be enough.”
"What do you mean?”
“A special token is forged for everyone. You will never be able to enter freedom gate without it. Wisdom is only one side of this token. It's covered with silver.
“That never rusts?”
"Good question…Some people never acquire wisdom, then that silver side eventually rusts. The other side, which is covered with gold, is the grace of God Almighty. It's a miraculous element of life, which is beyond any human capacity. Grace is God, reaching out to men, and as men respond to God in faith, embracing His ways, they acquire wisdom. Grace and wisdom are two sides of the same token. Only together they open the door into freedom.”
"Wait a second! I have one of those at home! I got that token yesterday, but forgot where I put it… It has to be somewhere… Can I come back to this place?”
“Yes, there is still a chance to start over.” - was his answer.
As I turned to go back home, I woke up… and heard: "Good morning, sweet heart. Come, breakfast is ready!"
I started my day with a question: "Mama, do you know what it means to be free?"
“Of cause I do, - she said with a pure glowing smile. - To be free means to love. …By the way, is this yours? It slipped right out of your pocket last night.” -And she handed to me the most precious coin.
A Detour
Letter Tet
We all go through life with the word good on our tongue. Good morning. Have a good journey! He's got a good reputation. These are good jeans to wear. Just taste! It's so good! Let us all hope for the good. Does it seem good to you? Wishing you a good whatever it may be.
What is good exactly? Does everything have good in it? Is our common good a real thing? Is your good and my good automatically the same? What if different people have opposite goods? I never asked myself those questions until one day.
It all started when my mom came home and said to us, "Let us celebrate the good news! I finally got that big promotion!"
"Good for you," answered my dad and looked down. That good news really happened to change everything about our family life. My mom was always preoccupied with her new job responsibilities, and our dad tried to fill the gap for everything else. Besides our daily school issues, laundry, dishes, cleaning, gardening, and fixing stuff, all the cooking responsibilities were imposed on him alone.
Certainly, the kitchen was not his domain. In fact, the food he was making didn't taste like much, but we all had to get used to it since there was nothing else available.
My little brothers were bouncing around the house, making noise, trilling, or simply messing around with each other. I also found an occupation for myself eventually. It was a computer game: "Treasure Hunting." In front of my computer screen, I didn't bother anyone. That virtual reality quickly became my primary life resource. Without it, I simply couldn't function. My thoughts and emotions were loaded with the images from the game.
One day my dad came from work especially burdened. He looked upon all the mess and yelled,
"This is insanity! I'm not a slave! Why do I have to care for everyone and tend to so many troubles, and you're simply hazing?"
He looked at me like he would tear me to pieces.
"If you think yourself to be the center of the world, you're dreaming! You should take most of the home responsibilities! I don't want to see you playing that stupid game anymore! Go clean the dishes, you idiot!"
"If I'm the one causing trouble here, I better leave!" And before he could do anything else, I made my way out like a torpedo, slamming the door behind me.
Outside was cold, dark, and damp. To warm up, I started walking without a sense of direction. Arriving at McDonald's, I stopped to look through the window. Oh! It smelled so good! I was cold and hungry. Suddenly I noticed two men going out of there and coming towards me.
"Hey buddy," said one of them with a mustache, "do you wanna hamburger?"
"I'm a vegetarian." I lied, remembering not to talk to strangers.
But they didn't go away.
"Then I want to treat you with a portion of chips," he suggested.
That offer sounded so good. The man came closer and continued.
"Maybe your mama told you not to talk to strangers. What's the problem? Let us introduce ourselves. My name is Mustache, and here is Fatty. See, we're not strangers anymore!"
Those potato chips tasted so good; the best was to dip them in ketchup!
"Vegetarian is good! Concluded Mustache, watching me consuming those chips. He turned to Fatty. "You should also go vegetarian. You eat way too many hamburgers. Look how fat you have become!"
He made me laugh and forget my troubles at home.
"Where are you headed, buddy?" Suddenly asked Mustache.
"I was just on a hiking trip." I lied again.
"Okay, but what are you doing when you're not hiking? What's your occupation in life?" He persisted.
"Treasure hunting." Little did I know that my cover-up story would take such an unexpected turn. Mustache looked at me as if I was already grown up. "You're just the right person for us. We are also in the treasure hunting business. We can offer you a partnership, well paying."
He treated me seriously, and it felt good.
I agreed, and events started to spin. All three of us got into a car, and a private jet was waiting for us when we finally stopped in a field. Mustache opened a door for me.
"You are in for a treasure hunting adventure!" He patted me on the back and added, "You will be my co-pilot. Your job would be to check the table, and Fatty will be our flight attendant."
We sat down in a small cockpit.
"Is everything all set?" asked Mustache.
"Yes, Sir!" I was immersed in the game completely. And it felt so good again.
After some time, we landed in another field. The nature around us looked very different, and I had no idea where we were.
"Now, do me a favor," said Mustache. "We need help loading all those sacs into the plane." And he pointed to a heap of oversized white packages nearby. "This is some special herb we're cultivating."
The rest of the events span out so fast that the fragments I remember are all blurry like some other guys arrived and tried to get those packages; fight, which blew up into a slaughter; three of us escaping in a big car; Mustache is driving.
I was so mixed up.
"It's not good to have the boy with us. We need to get rid of him." Said Fatty. To sink him would be the best solution, and he grabbed my shoulder.
"Don't touch the boy, you idiot!" Mustache yelled at him, and they started a fight inside a car. The car went off the road. It got terrible. Suddenly Mustache opened the door and pushed me out into a garbage dump, and they left me behind. The more I tried to climb on top of that dump, the deeper I sank into the filth. The stench was unbearable. I hit my head on a metal bar, and that's the last thing I remember.
"I see. You were lucky your landing was soft, " a policeman answered after my lengthy monolog.
He was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. I was lying there with an IV dripping into my arm.
"Thanks for the story; it's enough to write a draft. I will come back in a couple of days to sign some forms."
"Wait a second! I urged him. "Am I a prisoner here? Why can't I go home? How long do I have to lay down here with this dropper in my arm?"
"I'm not a doctor. You were sinking in the filth; it absorbed your body and defiled you. Now it's time to take care of the problem. This liquid from the dropper will cleanse your body from that filth. You want to know how long: until all the dirt is washed away and you are clean again. It might take some time, but at least you got out alive."
"Where are they? Where is Mustache?" I yelled my questions to stop him from leaving.
"They both got crushed in that car shortly after Mustache pushed you out," he stated. "We know it's them because we compared the fingerprints. I will return when you feel better."
"How stupid! He asked me for a favor. I couldn’t have known." I uttered, coming out from the fog.
"And what if he would ask you to press a button that sends a deadly missile to destroy many people? Would you do him that favor too?" The policeman inquired suddenly. "You followed your own ideas of good, and they failed you. Everything can be good for some person somewhere, under some circumstances."
"But Mustache did all those things for me. He saved my life." I still couldn't accept what had happened.
"I'm sorry He didn't make it back on the road after a detour," said the policeman and sat on my bed one more time. "Let me explain it to you.
It might have sounded good, smelled, tasted, and felt good, but it didn't last because it was not real."
"Are you saying that anything good is just an illusion?" I interrupted him.
"Please be patient," he suggested, "especially that now you've got some time and don't need to rush anywhere. I meant that our Creator, the Almighty God, is good, and His goodness is an ever-lasting reality; that's a real treasure worthy to hunt. The road to that treasure is the way of truth, revealed in His Word. From the beginning, He purposed for all men to taste His goodness. But Adam, the first man He created, tasted from a forbidden fruit instead. As a result, a filthy nature of madness is imposed upon all of us who came after.
Remember your meeting at McDonald’s? You covered up your true story, and they did theirs. People do it everywhere constantly by sweeping some details under the carpet and plastering others. In the end, they present a created patchwork, where the actual reality is impossible to recognize; the truth is ground together with a lie. Once you enter into a dirty game, it defiles you."
"What do you mean?" I surely was challenged by his explanation.
"This dirt distorts your ability to see. The spectrum range of your eyesight is altered, and your vision is blurred. In this condition, you cannot perceive clearly where you're going and what's happening around you. You are misled from the true and straight path and forced to take a detour. You go wandering off the road, trying to find your original path. You can only get your vision back through a cleansing process, drop by drop until all that filth leaves your being.
Because of that dirty nature, we all go into a detour from the original road, some of us into a short one and others longer, yet some folks never make it back on the road. Remember the journey from Egypt into the promised land? It took the children of Israel forty long years to get there. They obviously took a detour, and most of them never made it back. At one point, they were so close but didn't see clearly."
"I've heard that story. It's so sad. But is there any chance not to go into a detour?" I inquired.
"There is. Learn from your mistake and take heed to God's instructions. In His Word, He explains the safe itinerary to you before bad things happen, like before you find yourself in a garbage dump. Following His strategies, you cannot lose. To stay on track, you must develop a taste for His word and absorb it until it becomes your second nature. Only a real serious treasure hunter can follow the line." He concluded and got up to leave.
At that moment, I remembered my family and urged the policeman: "I need to make a phone call now!"
"That would be a good thing to do." He smiled and handed me his portable phone.
"Hello, Dad? It's me. Yes, I'm all right. I want to hunt a real treasure now and not play games anymore. I'll explain to you later when I get home. Please tell mom that I will need a few cooking lessons. See you soon!"
Stand your ground!
Letter Yud
Usually, a birthday is a long-awaited day for every child. They mark the date of that most special event on a calendar and invite their friends, expecting pleasant surprises. They prepare to demonstrate their achievements and hope to receive praise. Then after a certain age, people relate to their birthdays differently: they have already heard all the wishes and enjoyed all possible surprises. Every coming birthday presents another year they must add to their past life, but this particular one was definitely an exception.
It was my grandfather's birthday, and he was excited about it like a child, maybe because he had lived a significant number of years; I don't know why. Both my grandfather and grandmother were totally consumed in preparations for this event. They sent invitations to all our relatives, even those who lived far away: my grandfather's brother and his huge family, nephews, and cousins with their families.
The house was embellished and adorned so beautifully. My grandmother prepared a display of all my grandfather's photographs, whatever she could find.
And the day was here. Guests started to arrive, and I was the one to greet everybody at the entrance. Most of them looked noble and dignified, especially my grandfather's brother, who showed up in a big luxury automobile. This gathering was unique and very special to all the guests. They were all talking about their genealogy tree, trying to figure out their relations to each other, and searching for past connections.
Finally, we were all sitting down at the long table, expecting someone to take the initiative to propose a toast. My grandfather's brother got up with a glass of wine in his hand.
"As you probably all know, my brother and I were not of distinguished birth, born into a family of poor manufacturing workers. Our parents earned their bread with sweat and weary labor in a little town near the sea. We didn't know any other life, so that was our sweet childhood in the homeland; we were two happy bare footers. He became a real friend to me, a friend who is closer than a brother.
That life presented stability for us until one day, a fire broke out in the manufactory, and our parents died. It felt as if someone had removed the ground from under our feet.
My brother and I were placed in an orphanage, and our sweet childhood was over. Many children in that orphanage were already sick due to the terrible living conditions. My little brother got sick, too. He kept wailing from pain, and I could not comfort him. After some time, I got really desperate, and yet another change came about.
This time, a wealthy couple from overseas visited our orphanage and decided to adopt me. I begged them to take my brother also, but they were informed that his sickness was fatal, and his case was hopeless. So, our ways did part, I thought forever. I left my homeland and moved to another continent with my new family. All contact with that orphanage was to help me forget my terrible past. I didn't have any chance to see my little brother ever again.
My new parents treated me well and provided me with the opportunity to study.
It was a foreign ground, but I learned to walk on it. As the years passed, I became a successful businessman and started my own sea freight company. Some years ago, I met a delegation on one of the foreign ships, and the biggest surprise of my life was waiting for me there. I saw him, same smile, same eyes. My little brother was standing with the sailors. It was shocking for us to finally find each other after all those years. I guess it was ordained from above. We both experienced many storms in life, but in every storm, we eventually found dry land, a stable ground to stand upon!
Today, on my dear brother's anniversary, I want to propose a toast to the stable ground. On this day, we are here together, in the presence of all our descendants, who are more precious than diamonds since they represent our future. Let them not be lost in roaring waters of life, but walk on the solid, stable ground!"
We all enjoyed a delicious meal and looked at each other again, not knowing what to do next. Our connections in the past were established, and we were all glad to have a future. But now, in the present, do we have anything in common?
"Let's watch the news!" suggested one of the relatives.
This idea seemed to relieve tension between us since everyone could relate to it, and each hurried to find a spot in the TV room. My grandmother sat on the couch with other elderly ladies.
"I haven't watched the TV news for quite a while," she honestly admitted to them.
"Oh, dear!" They exclaimed in unison. "How can you live not knowing what's happening around you?"
I went to turn the TV on, and everyone opened his mind like an infant would open his mouth at his mother's breast.
"We expect another year of drought. Consequently, the supply of vegetables will decrease, and their prices will rise. In addition to that, the big forest territory was inflamed, and the fire caused a lot of damage. For that reason, our local government issued a decree about the additional taxes required from all the residents from the beginning of next month."
"Gosh, these economy talks are too boring! Change the channel; let's watch some action," suggested one of the younger children.
The same voice continued.
"Another airplane was intercepted by the terrorists. Another war broke out, and the extremists are burning entire settlements; they opened gunfire, not sparing anyone, women, old men, and babies."
"How can you sleep after hearing such news? This is so terrible! I think I made the right decision never to watch it," concluded my grandmother.
"Look now! This should be interesting," responded a lady who sat to the right of her. Our city mayor is talking."
"We proudly announce that the beauty contest winner was born in our hometown. What a gorgeous woman she became! Today she is the beauty queen of the entire continent!"
"What is beautiful about that girl?" exclaimed my grandmother. "She appears almost naked on television, like a whore!"
"Oh, dear! Responded the same lady from the right. "Nobody is bothered by this any longer. We are facing a terrible descent in morals and ethics everywhere. Can you imagine abortions and homosexual marriages that became a norm in society? And on top of that, the increasing cost of living!"
"I'm so desperate! We have no future!" And my grandmother burst into tears.
One of our family members was a teacher, and he firmly believed that simple awareness of the environment is beneficial for stability and peace of mind. He felt responsible for handling the situation.
"In so much as we see the whole infrastructure of our society is falling apart, we know that all foundations are shaking," he stated. "As we know, every house needs a solid foundation, and if the building is founded on fraud and conceit, it will not be able to stand long. Integrity is not relevant anymore. Appearances settle all the issues between the people. Among all the available options to cooperate with life, pretense remains the easiest and the most popular one."
"Ah, where are those good old days? My grandmother sighed. "At least our generation had some moral standards!"
"Why blame our children? replied the teacher." They're building upon the foundation we set in place for them," but instead of calm, his explanations only ignited the fire. Now everyone felt an urge to throw his log into it.
"This degradation is phenomenal!"
"What's the use of this "solid ground"? It's only good to spit on it!"
"And, of course, they blame the Jews for all those problems!"
Then another relative, sitting very quietly till that moment, spoke up. He had an advisory position in the mayor's office and took it upon himself to bring the focus back into its place. He coughed to draw attention and stated: "Despite multiple challenges today, let us identify with the good results. We no longer depend on imports from overseas; we present a thriving independent industry. We constantly initiate creative projects and realize them in our widespread production structure. Our city's manufacturing is known worldwide for applying new progress ideas. Our national technology is considered to be ahead of the rest of the world! Our political status is recognized globally, and our prestige is growing daily. The future is in our hands! We are able!"
"We are surely able to produce a lot of… Well, who would volunteer to wake up and open his eyes to see frightful reality?" The oldest man of the gathering rhetorically concluded.
"It's time for dessert!" announced my grandmother, and our unity was restored. We all started to slowly move back to the dining room.
"Where is the birthday man?" inquired one of the relatives.
"Ah, he always takes a nap at this time of the day; he prefers to sleep through the news hour," she said with a smile. "But here he is, my darling!"
"Not being aware of what's going on is like living in a dream," commented the teacher. "The knowledge puts your feet on solid ground." Everyone turned to my grandfather: What will he answer?
He sat down, took a deep breath, and started:
"Allow me to share with you a story about the solid ground. I've heard it from one of the sailors on a night watch when there was no dry land in view.
It happened very long ago, but people were living exactly like we are living today. Everyone was busy with his own life; people were getting married, raising children, working hard, listening to the news, and discussing a phenomenal descent in morals and ethics. One day, the flow of ordinary daily routine was interrupted by a very peculiar event. One of the natives of that land, Noah, heard some information from a different source. The Creator of the world spoke and got Noah's attention. He announced the soon-coming punishment for sin and the destruction of all the dry land through the flood. Suddenly Noah found himself in a very destabilizing situation and started to reason in his heart:
"Hmm. Scientifically, it looks impossible. Where would such an amount of water come from? Plus, nobody knows this source of information, so people will mock me and put a stigma on my name. It might be dangerous for my family. What should I do? Maybe it would be safer to hide this information and pretend that I never heard anything special."
But the Creator continued: "I have something for you to do, Noah. I want you to build an arc, for I purpose to demonstrate my plan of salvation," and the Almighty gave him instructions and measurements.
It became pretty tough for Noah. He had to convince his sons to help him and to work hard every day. By the way, big chunks of wood were needed for that unique construction, and there was no logistic company in their day. His hands became calloused, and his whole body was hurting. The inhabitants of that land came together and concluded:
"Noah just wants to appear better than us! We should punish him for his pride and boycott him and his family!'
It seemed to be unending torment, until one day, at the appointed time, without further notice, the fountains of the deep broken up, and the windows of heaven were open.* At that time, no wailing or sobbing could make a difference. There wasn't one spot of solid ground to put your feet upon; all the dry land disappeared under those waters, together with all the inhabitants. Only in the arc, which represented Noah's partnership with the Almighty, was salvation and stability. Surely his life in the arc had its challenges, but he continued to hope until it really happened. One day Noah sent out a dove from the arc, and it returned to him, carrying a freshly plucked olive leaf as a sign of a new life. He saw it manifest in front of his eyes: his future homeland appeared. He inherited the future from the hand of the Creator Himself.
Noah and his family were set apart by the Almighty for salvation. Why was he able to stand this incredible test? He could endure till the end because from the beginning he was well-grounded in the land of the living, which cannot be destroyed."
"The desert is ready!" came a shout, and two men carried in a most beautiful cake. In one moment, everyone's attention switched to the table except mine.
I came very close to my grandfather and asked,
"Do you also hear the news from another source of information, like Noah?"
He smiled back. I persisted,
"Can you please tell me more? I need to hear it, too!"
He bent down and whispered in my ear.
"Just wait till the party is over, and then I will be delighted to tell you more. This is the best birthday present you could give me."
Born to Shine
Letter Kaf
Trilogy
Part One
My dad always loved my mom, but I have never seen her. She died giving birth to me. Since the day I was born, he became both a father and a mother.
We lived out in nature, near a small village. Dad worked as a vine grower in one of the vineyards around. On our little plot of land, he was cultivating vegetables, mainly cabbage and celery, our primary food. We both enjoyed our peaceful, simple life.
Behind our house was a beautiful meadow full of flowers of all different colors! We walked there together every afternoon.
"Look at this gorgeous one!" my dad would call, pointing at a particular flower. He would bend the knee to be my height and to look closer together. "See how it stands tall, open to the sunlight, he would say. It declares the glory of its Creator." He occasionally took me out to sleep under the sky on summer nights, right in the vineyards. I loved to fall asleep, looking into the endless starry dome, but my attempts to count the stars failed every time.
"See how bright they are?" my dad would ask, covering me with a blanket. Stars are created to shine amid the dark world. They reflect the glorious light of the Almighty God."
I treasured those moments, but the best time was when my dad read to me.
"What should we read tonight?" he would ask.
"Daniel the prophet!" I would answer. Daniel was my favorite. I could listen to stories over and over about how he and his friends were in captivity in the king's palace but chose to eat only vegetables, and in the end, they looked better and healthier than others who ate from the king's table. The story of how Daniel chose to pray to God, despite the forbidding decree of the king and being thrown into the lion's den, survived. A story about his three friends who, under the penalty of death by a fiery furnace, refused to bow down before the golden idol. They decided to give glory to the only true God and being thrown tied into the furnace, walked out of there free, without a single burn!
"Daniel's choices only looked like a failure," dad would say, "but his life reflected the eternal glory of God; he was determined to glorify Him either with his life or with his death."
And my childhood was over. A young lad, I started to help my father in the vineyard. One day, coming home, we both noticed something unusual.
"Surprise!" A stranger jumped out from behind a tree. "You!" exclaimed my dad, and they hugged each other. "Come in. You should be tired after such a long journey," he said and turned to me: "This is my brother. I haven't seen him for quite a few years." As far as I remember, dad never uttered a word about his family.
I kept staring at my newly discovered uncle. He looked so different from my dad. "What do they have in common? I wondered. He seems to come from a different world. He unpacked his suitcase and got out many shiny packages, food, and things I'd never seen before. Then he handed me one small package and said, "This one is especially for you." I opened it carefully, trying not to break the package. It was a golden spoon. Before I could ask anything, he explained: "It's symbolic of luck and prosperity." I hugged him, and the ice broke.
All three of us sat at the table, filled with the exotic foods he had brought. What a feast! My uncle was observing me consuming those goodies.
"You look like a capable young man," he concluded. "What are you still doing in this hole? You should come over to the metropolis."
I looked at my father. He seemed to be in some frozen state for a few minutes. Then he turned to me and said firmly, "Go to sleep, son. We must get up early tomorrow. My brother and I need to talk."
I didn't understand what caused that sudden turn, but I went, holding the golden spoon in my hand.
I lay in my bed, trying to catch every word of their conversation behind closed doors.
For a few minutes, it was silent, then uncle spoke again.
"I understand you gave up your talent and chose this life, but why do you tie the boy? Don't stand at the door! Let him enter the grand life! Let him fly!"
"I don't see it this way," interrupted my dad. "How can you fly, being stuck in lies? Twirling around important people, is that what you call "a grand life?"
"Why do you throw the ball into my field? I haven't got any children. I do my best with what I have, but you! You marinate the boy. Let him use his wings! Let him fly wherever he wants!"
"He doesn't need to learn your shameful ways," concluded my dad, but the uncle didn't give up.
"What do you offer him? To gnaw the same loaf of hard bread for the rest of his life?"
"I wish you would leave tomorrow morning," said my father and added the ball is in your field; you chose to continue. Enjoy the game."
I didn't dare to ask my dad any questions. I knew I was not supposed to listen to their conversation. But one thing was sure; I was never the same after my uncle's visit. Every night, looking at that shiny golden spoon, I dreamed about my future grand life in the metropolitan.
"Dad, maybe we can have a better life in the big city?" I asked him.
"Who bewitched you to run after a better life in the big city? My brother with his gifts? Don't you remember Daniel?" He couldn't hide his anger.
"But Daniel also had an education." I tried to persist, but he cut the conversation and concluded,
"We are not moving to the city! That's it!"
The next few days, we hardly spoke. The whole atmosphere between us became sour. I went out to look at the stars. They seemed so far and indifferent. I held the spoon in my hand and continued to dream, and my yearnings continued to grow until one day, I came and announced
I'm not chained to this life. I choose to move to the metropolitan.
This time dad didn't attempt to stop me. Instead, he handed me a piece of paper.
"I was ready for this," he said. "I understand. May God protect you. Be watchful, son; some of their ways are not kosher. Here's my brother's address. You probably can't stay there, but just as a landing place."
We hugged each other. "Write sometime," he whispered in my ear.
And I left, embarking on my journey into the grand life.
Part two
After a long journey, I arrived in the city. Wow! What a difference! Thrilled, I opened the paper with my uncle's address, took a deep breath, and went to ask for directions. The metropolitan was a world in itself. After a couple of hours, I rang the bell of my uncle's apartment.
"Hello, young man!" He exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise!" He invited me in and offered me a cup of tea.
"You must be hungry." He called from the kitchen, "I'm making you a sandwich. That's what we eat in the city."
I looked around his fancy living room at the expensive furniture and beautiful paintings hanging on the walls. Among other pictures, I noticed an old black and white photograph of a group of young guys and came closer to look at their faces. In the middle of the group stood a handsome man with a violin.
I looked into his eyes. "You found it straight away, ah?" said uncle, returning from the kitchen. "It's from college time, the students from our class."
I kept staring at the man in the middle.
"Recognize him?" Uncle came close to me. "That's your father."
I got into some frozen state for a few minutes, trying to comprehend.
"Your dad probably never mentioned anything about this. He decided to hide it, even to bury it."
Silently, I waited for an explanation then he continued:
"Your father and I were in the same college. He was an exceptional violinist. His amazing talent was hard not to notice. He was a bright shining star. He got invited to perform at the most special conventions, banquets, and other gatherings. He was offered a lot of money, and life opened wide before him, but he refused to enter."
"Why? Can you please tell me why?" I begged him.
"There were times of political stirring. One guy from our class was an activist in resistance; he publicly spoke against certain rules. That was a long time ago."
"Was dad also an activist?"
"No. If he would simply bend his views a little, he would continue to play music and become rich and famous. But he decided to dig a grave for his talent. I tried to talk him out of that decision, but he bashed all my arguments. He was so foolish and stubborn! It hurts me to remember this story. What a shame! It wasn't just his failure, but a loss for the whole country and the music world!"
I felt anger against my dad for the choices he made. The uncle sat down in a comfortable armchair and concluded,
"Life is a complicated mechanism. One little cable puts the whole machine to work. Your father chose to cut it, but you don't have to. Look for that little cable, a little connection, wherever it comes from, don't miss your opportune moment."
I intend to find a job, whatever is available.
"Good decision." He interrupted me. "Let's check in a local newspaper."
I moved my chair and sat down next to him. He opened a newspaper and looked under the title "Job offers."
"Here is one for you," he exclaimed, "and it's urgent. You can start right away!" He pointed at the offer, "a lawn mowing job in a wealthy neighborhood; sounds right. You should go now!"
I copied the address and got up to go.
"Oh, do me a favor," said the uncle. "Get this ugly hat off of your head. You don't want to look like a villager."
I put a hat in my backpack, thanked him, and left.
Observing the beautiful villas, I was getting closer to my destination. Then suddenly, I saw a house in flames, surrounded by firetrucks, firemen running, lots of people, and loud noise. I looked closer and saw a girl about my age; two strong firemen were trying to stop her from running into the burning house, but she persisted with all her strength.
The chief fireman approached them and said to the girl,
"Sorry, ma'am. We cannot allow you to go in. The house is in flames. The whole team looked for your dog everywhere and couldn't find it. I apologize, but our responsibility is to keep you from getting hurt."
But the girl would not be comforted.
"I know my dog is there, and it is still alive!" she shouted over and over. "I must go get it!"
Without hesitating, I ran into the burning house. The fire had already burned most of the furniture.
I looked around and noticed the stairs going down to the basement. I ran down and entered one room after the other. Finally, I saw a tiny dog trapped in the window grille, trying to escape. It breathed heavily but was still alive. I pulled it out and ran out of there as fast as possible. Outside everyone was trying to comfort the girl. One of the firemen noticed me coming and cried out loud, "The dog!" The sea of people opened up at once for me to walk through. The girl ran towards me, carefully took the dog from my arms, and brought it close to her chest.
"Thank you," she whispered and started to walk away.
I went out and started walking next to her. She smiled at me.
"I live just a few houses over," she said. "I was visiting my friend when her house caught on fire. Where are you going?"
"To this address," I replied and showed her the paper. I hope to get a lawn mowing job there."
"What a coincidence!" she exclaimed. "That's my address. Our lawn mower got sick, and my father put an ad in a local newspaper."
I took a deep breath and remembered the words of my uncle: "A little connection will put a big machine to work." Well, he was right about that.
"I want to express my gratitude for what you did for my daughter," said her father after I had finished mowing. "I want to support you."
That evening I couldn't comprehend all it meant. I didn't just get the job; I got adopted into a new family. All the doors suddenly opened to me. I could enter a very prestigious college. During my studies, I made a few attempts to return to my uncle. I was eager to tell him how my life turned out, but his door was always closed. I didn't search any further or write to my dad. Anyway, my life was so full and exciting. The day I graduated from college, I proposed to that girl, and she said yes! Our engagement party is tonight. I couldn't be happier!
Coming home, I grabbed my white shirt from the cleaners and turned around the corner. A familiar little dog ran towards me, happily wagging its tail. My future father-in-law appeared right before me and asked, "Have you guys decided on the date for a wedding yet?"
"We plan to announce it tonight," I responded with a smile.
"I look forward to it," he said, adding, "I also have something to announce." Upon those words, he handed me an envelope and disappeared with the dog.
I got home and looked closer at the envelope. My name was written in golden letters. I carefully pulled the letter out and started to read.
"Greatly respected so and so. We are happy to announce that you have been chosen to officiate in a star position in a world-leading management system. You have all the necessary traits to perform a successful service in this venerable office. Your ordination procedure is tomorrow morning. Be ready for the reception of the mantle; come buttoned up, and remember this is a very high position, and you have to appear unapproachable."
I felt both excited and heavy, but I didn't have time to sort my feelings out; I had to hurry to the city square for our organized party.
There was quite a crowd of people. Colorful balloons and flowers decorated the place, and refreshments filled the tables everywhere. When they saw me entering, everything suddenly became quiet, and everyone looked in my direction in admiration. I felt so heavy, not able to move.
My beloved came to rescue me.
"Come, they are waiting for us."
She took my hand, and we went forward together.
Part three
We had a beautiful ceremony, almost like a wedding itself. My bride-to-be kissed me and said, "You are a star of my world!"
My future father-in-law got up with a glass in his hand and announced,
"Today, I have a double reason to celebrate. First, I'm happy for my daughter to find an honorable man, and I look forward to them building a happy family. But here is the second reason: I have been looking for an executive manager and found an excellent one!"
He lifted his glass and cried out loud, "To the great leader, entering his office!"
"Honor the leader!" echoed the crowd.
All these events, plus alcohol, made the rest of the party a blackout experience for me. Frankly, I don't remember any other speeches, wishes, or congratulations.
Finally, the feast was over. I was half asleep, walking through the square in dimmed lights. Only a few cleaning workers were picking up garbage, and the homeless were looking for leftovers. Suddenly
I heard a familiar voice behind me.
"Ah, another lawn mowing job."
I was intrigued and turned around.
"Uncle?" The shock woke me up at once. Yes, I recognized him, but I couldn't believe what I saw. He looked so different: an old man, very thin and withered; his clothing crumpled, and his skin shrunk. His hair looked lousy. He looked like he had just been dug up from under the ground. What was he doing there? A homeless -- Instantly, I remembered my visits to him all those years, his ever-closed door. I kept staring at him in silence.
He invited me to sit next to him on a bench and started.
"I owe you an apology. I only told you half the story the day you came to my house. You need to hear all of it."
I was more awake than ever, waiting for him to speak up.
"Remember I spoke to you about that activist from our class? Sure, you do. He was your father's friend, outstanding and outspoken. His words revived hope in everyone listening. He was so brilliant and straightforward that the authorities feared him and plotted to get rid of him. Our college administration wrote a declaration against him; it was all false accusations and slander. Every student in our class had to sign it. Your father was the only one who refused to sign. But I signed it against my own will. It's an unbeatable stain on my life," said the uncle and looked down.
"What happened to that man?" I touched his shoulder, asking him to continue.
"The official church named him a heretic, and the newspapers' headlines read: 'His premature death was a divine punishment.'
To stay alive, your father had to agree never to return to the metropolis. He made the right decision; he started a new life. He was much franker with life than I was. He warned me, but I wasn't open to hearing. I'm ashamed of what I did, but it's too late.
He was right. The system is not redeemable with its lies wrapped up in shiny promises of a grand and glorious life. Now I know the other side of it. They got on my case, and I quickly lost everything I had. It's not even about possessions; the falsehood slowly gnaws life out of you. It eats you from the inside, like an ulcer."
"Why did you mention mowing a lawn?" I inquired, remembering his first words.
He took a deep breath and responded.
"Remember I told you about life being a mechanism? Of course, you do. This mechanism runs on money and power. Its main function is to manipulate the masses to conquer and bring all people under submission. They constantly pave new roads and march upon them to occupy new territories. They bend everyone who stands out; individuals have no right to exist in their world. All that's important for them is quantity, so they multiply their crooked subordinates. It's more than physical imprisonment; it's a crushing of an individual's will by redefining the idea of freedom. People stop thinking for themselves. They don't belong to themselves anymore, becoming only the tools in the hands of their leaders to create a "bright new world." A few chosen leaders run this big mysterious mechanism, and your future father-in-law is one of them. And you will be used to trim the people into the same size and shape as a lawn mower."
I was in shock. It felt like my life had come to a stop. I didn't know how to continue. How much I wished to have some news from my dad now!
"I've got something for you," said the uncle and reached into the inner pocket of his coat. It's a letter from your father. He had no news from you and sent it to my address."
He handed me the letter and started walking away into the night, pushing a little carriage with his few belongings.
I got up slowly, looked around to see if anyone was watching me, and then walked home, holding the letter in my hand. Finally, behind a closed door in my apartment, I was in a safe refuge. Making sure
I had locked my door, I pulled the letter out of the envelope and started to read.
"Peace be with you, son.
I have been waiting to hear from you for a long time.
Have you found your way in the Metropolitan? Or have you found yourself in a labyrinth of lies and looking for a way out? Maybe you got caught up in a situation that seems impossible to change. It's not easy to be honest in a world of corruption and duplicity.
Those stories you loved to read as a child clearly represent today's world.
Politics resound as an echo of an ancient Babylonian Empire. History repeats itself.
Remember Daniel and his friends. They chose to give glory to God and not bow down to an idol, even in the face of death. Nothing has changed; the idols of power and money are everywhere. They dictate to you what is worthy of investing your life in. The entire world gravitates in that direction, but you can use your wings and fly, as Daniel did. Even living in captivity, you can still make choices as a free man, for you are the carrier of light in your circumstances, and the intentions of your heart will determine the quality of your life. The way that gives glory to God is always a way out of that labyrinth. God himself will lead you out in his ransom plan.
You probably already found some historical details which I tried hiding from you. I wanted to protect you from that pain, at least for some time. But you left before I had a chance to explain. Anyway, one day you might understand, but for now, I just wanted to tell you that talent is given with a purpose to glorify God; it doesn't have a value of its own. It reflects God's glory upon a person's life, making him shine like a star. Those who give God the glory will shine as gems in His crown."
I better get some sleep, I thought and went to bed. The world around me was dark and calm. A magnificent morning star appeared in my window when I put my head on a pillow. Holding the letter to my chest, I whispered: I choose to follow the light that no man can extinguish. Thank you, dad.
Teach your Heart
Letter Lamed
If you think learning is challenging, try to be a teacher…
One day I was standing in a college yard and a group of guys drew my attention. I was fascinated by their appearance. Their clothes had all foreign brands and looked fine and polished all over. They all seemed to me especially bright and blooming. They looked so united and even soldered together; I mean: they all seem to understand each other in some special way. I kept starring at them in fascination… Oh! If I could only wear this kind of clothes… and shoes… and have this complete look! I was so eager to meet them and to be a part of their life even for a short time…
Suddenly one of them approached me and said:
“Hey, I see you grew weary from your studies…”
“Yea, it becomes a burden lately,” - I answered honestly.
He scanned me from head to toe and continued:
“You don't seem to have any particular defect… - and at once his face brighten up with enthusiasm. - I have an idea! You've got potential to really blossom in this life!”
Those words set my heart ablaze.
"Promise not to squeal to the college dean?” - He asked rather severely.
“Of cause,” - I answered fervently.
"Tonight, we all go to spend the night in a very special place - ‘A gathering of scoffers.’ There's gonna be a lot of fun: joking, frivolity, mocking and other pleasantry." He whispered to my ear: "there are many things your little tongue can do that they don't teach you in college… Yea, by the way, everyone will wear a special white raiment.”
"But I don't have one… Does it mean I can't go?” - I asked anxiously.
“No worries, - he assured me, - you can borrow one of mine. It is a great hanging out! You will love it! There is the best desert in the world they are baking there. If we'll arrive early enough, we'll even be able to watch how they knead the dough and add all the species… This will be so tasty – you surely will leak your fingers.”
“What is so special about this desert?”
“Oh, I see that you didn't learn much in this life yet… You chew only on bread your entire life or what? All right, I'll explain: This special desert will make your whole body juicy and vigor, it will infuse you with energy. You can get really excited, even to the point of ecstasy. And to cool you back again, there will be an ice-cream stand in the middle – leak as much as you want! Don't worry, if you'll make my raiment dirty, I can always bleach it after… There will be many wonderful activities there, - he continued, - great bodies to caress…”
I was struggling within myself: "But I don't know anybody there…"
“That's no problem either. There will be an amazing unity in that place. We will all be wrapped around each other, even soldered together for the entire night!”
My whole body was burning! I was practically glowing with enthusiasm from his charming words.
"Wow!" – I whispered in admiration.
“Hey buddy! Keep this feverish passion for tonight!” – said he and left.
I hesitated for a minute. His last words sounded rather mocking to me, but on the other hand I realized that I myself was on the brink of adopting a foreign language and foreign customs… and I swallowed them.
I could hardly wait till the evening. At a fixed hour, I saw my new friends from a far and run towards them. Rushing with enthusiasm, I took a diagonal shortcut through a field; I never went that way before. Suddenly my foot was twisted and got firmly grasped in a sharp metal trap! Trying to overcome the pain, I looked closer… To my shock, it had a shape of a human heart!
I saw my friends on the other side of the field. Looking in my direction, they shook their heads, got into the car… and left. That made my pressure even more unbearable.
I had to spend my night here, in the middle of the field, desperate and miserable, waiting for someone from the college personnel to come and help me.
Suddenly a man appeared in front of me. I couldn't recognize him… It wasn't someone I met before. “Maybe he was a new college teacher,” - I thought.
“What are you doing here so late?” – He inquired.
“Are you blind?! - I grumbled back, - Can't you see I got trapped!?! My foot is clammed so strongly… I don't even know if I would be able to run again!”
“You' d better stop complaining, - he said unexpectedly. Murmuring doesn't help anybody. Didn't you study the book of Exodus last semester?”
I quieted down…
“What would help me then?”
“Keep learning, even when it gets hard. ‘Harder to learn, easier to fight’.” And he opened a familiar study book:
"Blessed is the man, who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the Law of the Lord and on His Law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree, planted by the streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers."
I didn't know what to answer. He continued:
"Why do you think, those instructions are included in your study program?”
“I don't know.”
“Well, let me explain: Look at the shape of the snare that's clasping your leg. A heart, isn't it? It is your own heart that trapped you. Heart is a very dangerous wizard material inside every human. It causes you to become a customer in strange places, it entices you to make dirty deals and purchases you never intended. It can pull you into destruction before you know it. But you came to study in this college, because you chose to follow a certain way.”
“But those guys… - I interrupted, - they are also students here…"
“They only say they are. - answered the teacher, - Their hearts are not engaged in the study. Their tongue creates an outward look for them, exactly like that outward clothing, which you've got so attracted to in the first place. They don’t follow the way which is taught in our college, they insist on their own way. But just to say the right words is not enough. Without a teachable heart, instruction will be useless.”
“But how could this happen to me then?” - I tried to defend myself.
“Your heart was idly laying out there, waiting to be engaged. They simply pushed a special button and there you were - burning in flames. Your heart is what this whole world is after. There is a real war for it. That’s why you came here to study.”
“Honestly… sometimes I get really exhausted from studies.” - I admitted.
He read again:
“'Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.’
Your own heart is your major life resource. On one hand it’s a wizard, which pushes you into dirt and destruction; on the other hand, it is a treasure that pulls you into the heights you only dream about. That’s why you need to teach it and engage it in the way you want to go.”
“How is it possible?” - I wondered.
“A meditation of the heart, - he replied. - Remember? Take your study material and make a simple melody to it. You can go around your day, chanting it to yourself… and your heart, engaged in the truth, will pull you into the highest life.
It only seems insignificant… In fact, this is also a proven strategy to win the war. Many times the Levites went into battle before the fighters; their task was to praise the Lord and proclaim His truth in a song. A heart in tune with the truth will win every battle.
By the way, your study material contains all the strength you need. It’s a daily nourishment, like bread… Are you ready to continue?”
“Oh, yes!”- I wanted to assure him of my commitment… but he already disappeared. Suddenly a trap opened up and I was standing alone again…
I got up and started walking towards my college, humming to myself a simple tune:
“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to You O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.”*
Life and Death
Letter Mem
It was a beginning of a rainy day. I had neither desire, nor energy to leave my bed and go into that dump, grey reality outside… Suddenly an idea lighted my mind: What if I simply rebel against life’s demands today and put them all off till tomorrow?” I closed my eyes to disappear into my pleasant dream; my whole body relaxed, my thoughts started to slow down. But in a twinkling of an eye my invention already collapsed, as I‘ve heard tensed voice of my mother: “Did you forget? We all have to drive to your uncle’s funeral today. Come on, hurry up! We must leave in a few minutes.” I didn’t have a choice, I had to come back from my sweet invention into a bitter reality. I stretched on the bed and felt a current of life flowing back into my body.
“Please go faster! We don’t want to be late! - urged my mom, but dad continued driving with the same speed, without even blinking. He was taught that speeding up on the road is a life and death issue and if you drive too fast, you might never arrive to your destination. “I prefer to get there alive”, - he finally responded.
At the cemetery my mind got busy watching everyone around. People were all sad and walking in slow motion, wearing black clothes. Except for some movement, they didn’t look much different from the dead ones. It seems as if this melancholic picture was always there, or at least for a long period of time… We stood together with our relatives, watching the dead body of my uncle disappear under the ground. I tried to stand still and respect the moment… “This is life”, - concluded a voice right above me. I looked around: everyone nodded his head in agreement. I could not believe my eyes and ears! Everything inside me protested against this conclusion!
“What’s the matter, son?” - asked my dad, going back to the car. “That man lied! What we all saw there was death and not life… Do you also agree to that junk?!” He took a deep breath. “It’s time for you to understand the issue of life and death… I will do my best to explain…” Suddenly my aunt stepped in to help my parents out and spoke to me: “You see, sweetie… life is given to us only for a period of time. When we fulfill our days death comes, they belong together. Check it in your dictionary when you get home.”
I protested: “I know that a person is either dead or alive! These two do not mix and there is nothing in the middle! And by the way, if your dictionary equals life to death, you should throw it away!” “Watch your manners, son” - came a familiar voice behind me. She turned away from me and concluded to her sister: “Don’t worry, darling. In this age children rebel against everything… he’ll grow out of it.” When she finally left, my father said to to my mom: “Why don’t you drive home alone and we will walk. We need to discuss something important.”
“But it’s so far! It will be a very long walk… plus the rain…” - mom would always express her concerns.
“Whatever it takes. - he answered and kissed her, - Never mind the rain, we got an umbrella. We’ll find our way home. It should be somewhere on the other side of this big cemetery… I love you, Don’t speed up on the road, be watchful!”
“Let’s go, - he said to me and open the umbrella above our heads, - you’ve asked a serious question, son, and requires a serious answer. In life and death issues mistakes are costly.” And we started walking on a little road with graves on each side of it. He looked around and took another deep breath: “Yea, there is a saying that death is everyone’s lot in life…” I interrupted him: “Do you mean that life is like a waiting room to sit and wait until death will come and take you out of here?”
“No, you don’t need to wait. You can step out into a different dimension.”
“Where is it then? And how is it different?” He smiled at me: “Like in mathematics, remember? Every dimension has its own measurement units. Every matter is understood and classified by its measurements. It all depends on how you measure your life.” I was trying really hard to understand: “So, it’s not only about my grades?”
“No, there is much more to life… - he stopped because our road suddenly ended in front of an entrance into a very big building. There wasn’t any road around it, to go through was the only way. We lingered at the entrance. “Is it a museum?” - I asked.
“Maybe one day it will become a museum, for now this an action place, - and he pointed to a sign above the door “Stock Market of Life”, - Let’s go inside and see.”
“Welcome to the Stock Market! - a concierge greeted us at the entrance. He was standing, leaning on a big measuring stick. - If you are together, we offer a second measuring stick half price only! You just came to a right place at the right time. Congratulations!” “No, thanks - answered my dad, we are not buying, nor selling.” In a twinkling of an eye that man got inflamed with anger: “What do you mean “Not buying, nor selling”?!? Who do you think you are? Every living person needs to buy and sell!”
“No, thank you, sir, We are only passing through the market. Can we just have a look?”
“Okay… But you cannot change your mind in the middle of the journey…” - and he looked the other way.
My father turned to me and said: “let’s go, son. I offer you my hand instead of a measuring stick.”
We started walking the long hallway, colors, sound and smells were changing with every step we made. Some of them were disgusting; others were pleasant and attractive. People around us were all in a hurry, running in different directions. They all had one thing in common though: each one of them had a measuring stick in his hand. “What a strange place,” - I thought out loud.
“This is what people call ‘life’,” - responded my daad, - A lot of buying and selling is going on here. Everyone is trying to get as many shares of the stock as he can and because the stock is limited, people are always in a hurry. See, the place is divided into rooms like departments, each one of those has its own colors, sounds and smells… It’s because each one of them has its own reality of life. When you wish to enter a certain department, you will have to exchange your measuring stick to the one they will offer you.”
“Why?”
“Because you will need to measure up to its reality. Each one has its own measures. People are different as you know. For some of them the amount of life they have is measured by riches…”
“The money on their bank account?”
“Of course, but not only that. It can be any riches. It can be luck for one, fame or power for another… Each room represent a different reality and offers different values to people. Once you enter, you start to devote yourself to that value and it becomes your goal. Some of them appear much more dignified than others, for example: a goal to become an expert in a certain field or to be appointed to a prestigious position, or even to transmit treasures to a following generations… But what attracts the most folks is simply the applause of others. It stimulates them to search for a good bargain. Whatever pulls them will decide what measurement they will use in life. Each morning the availability is announced and the merchandise begins. Everything here is on sale.”
“So, everyone here has money to buy?”
“People buy with whatever they got. You’ve heard the saying “Time is money”, right? Everything goes: ideas, performances, skills, energy and even beauty. The Stock Market is their resource of life. Some folks soften their opinions in order to make them more marketable, others subscribe to some influential organizations, which promise to their members a greater measure of the stock. People hurry to find the best bargain, for, as I told you, the stock is limited. At the end of each day everyone measures his cup: is it full or has only a few purchases? Who wants to be classified as ‘lower than average’?”
Heavy loaded, my brain was working so hard, searching for solution. “What if I will not accept any of those measurements?” - I asked my father.
If you refuse to follow the rules, you will considered ‘a rebel’”.
“Are you a rebel? - I shoot my question at him, not being able to hide my enthusiasm.
“Everyone is a rebel in some way. The question is: Which government you’re rebelling against…”
“What do you mean? - I interrupted him again, coming back to my senses, - Is there a governor in this place? Someone runs this Stock Market?!?”
“Yes, everyone here, with no exception, has to submit to the government of death. It holds the decisive standard of this Stock Market and every single life is eventually measured against it. At a certain time death comes like a tax collector, to collect its own. For that reason people try not to invest in anything long duration, because no-one knows when he will receive an envelope with his name on it, saying ‘no tomorrow’. They hurry to realize their dream, to achieve, to arrive… and then inevitable death comes to pluck them out from whatever life reality they made for themselves. Death is a merciless governor. Sometimes in the middle of self-realization a person suddenly collapses… or he might die slowly, getting exhausted from all that merchandise activity. Indeed it puts a lot of strain on people and squeezes all juices out of them. This stock exchange only seems to continue forever; it fades until the game ends up right here, in the cemetery.”
“Wow… and no-one ever tried to rebel against its government?” - I wondered.
“Oh, yes, people always tried to protest… in different ways. They invent solutions to delay that horrible day. Over centuries human brain came up with all kinds of ideas… People can slow down the process of dying, but none is able to escape death. It’s inevitable, even for the wittiest ones.”
But I persisted: “Maybe they are not trying hard enough? I’m not afraid! I will fight against it!”“It’s impossible, son. It would be same as fighting against your own self… When a person is drowning in water, can he pull himself out? The gravity force of his own body pulls him down. How can you conquer an enemy who has got a hold in your own camp?”
“What hold? - I interrupted, - it doesn’t have a hold in me!”
“Every human is involved in this picture. It goes all the way back to the beginning of human history.”
“There was a beginning… So, it wasn’t always like that…Tell me! What went wrong in the beginning?” - I urged .
“God the Father, who is the Origin of life created two first human beings: Adam and Eve. He planted them in the garden of Eden, where life was perfect and pure, with no tincture of death in it. His original plan was to share with them His very nature… but as you said, something went wrong. One of the angels that God created, rebelled against His government and got overthrown from heaven all the way down. But he didn’t stop there. Rebellion inside his heart urged him to spread the destruction and he went against God’s creation: against Adam and Eve.”
I sensed an unfolding of a great mystery and exclaimed: “That was the very first war in human history, right?”
“True, it was meant for destruction, but didn’t look like a war, it rather looked like an offer a good bargain. That fallen angel approached them with sweet words, presenting an appealing idea of realizing their potential and a lot of other benefits. It was his own invented reality.”
“Brain wash!” - I added.
“Exactly. It looked attractive and profitable, but the solution was deadly on the inside. The moment Adam and Eve tasted of that “death” solution, it immediately dissolved within them and became a part of their nature. They rebelled against life and death a legal right to govern. They departed from life and transmitted this rebellion to all generations after them. It’s dissolved in human nature, like sugar is diluted in the tea. Death has become a part of each one of us; it hinders us from that perfect pure life we were created to live.”
Suddenly he stopped talking and pointed at the door sign “Emergency exit”. He looked at me, like we were about to take off from the ground and said: “Let’s get out! Now!”
We went out… but nothing was exiting on the outside: the same grey reality, only the rain stopped. Our narrow pathway continued further, with graves on each side of it. “There was a very sad story,” -I finally concluded.
My dad took a deep breath and responded with a surprising answer: “It doesn’t end there, - he assured me, - for God always holds the last word. And until He utters His last word, nothing is final. His last word is the Messiah, whom He anointed to govern on the earth, in place of death. This anointed King will bring us back from human inventions to a reality of a true life, for He is a Carrier of its essence. He will realize the original plan of creation. He will establish His everlasting Kingdom: rebellion will be erased, death will disappear forever and we will embrace life fully with our circumcised hearts. It’s all written in the Word of God, which is the only true constant measurement to use.”
Was it all only a parable? - I wondered out loud, but immediately interrupted myself, - Dad look! We can see our house from here!”
He picked me up into his arms and said: “I promised your mom that we’ll find our way home.”
Music School
Letter Nun
My mom came in to kiss me good night and sat down on the edge of my bed. "You have a big day tomorrow,” she said and paused, “I'm so excited about your performance; you have a real gift from above." Her whole face brighten up.
I felt like a little boy and asked her, "Where did you kiss dad for the first time?"
"Right on the stairs of your music school. That building looked like a royal palace and your father was a charming prince,” was her answer.
"And…did he propose to you right then?" I continued.
"No, he simply said that I was his princess and at that moment I knew that our marriage was meant to be," she said.
True, it was a very big day for me. A big celebration was organized for all of our high school graduates. It was taking place in the magnificent banquet hall at our music school. I, as a contest winner, was chosen to play a solo part--accompanied by our city orchestra. That was the highest moment I've ever lived through; but something else made it even more extraordinary… As I got on the stage, I saw her - a beauty. Was she in the school all the time and I never noticed her?! Maybe she was a stranger here… anyway, she looked like a mysterious princess of a fairytale, that appeared in the middle of a banquet. She smiled at me and my heart started to vibrate so fast. something was so pleasant about her. A strange presence, which illuminated her from the inside, was emanating all around her as a delightful brightness.
And I played. That was my best performance ever. When the applause have ceased, the conductor turned to me and said, "You played like a prince today. I'm sure you're going to be a great musician one day and we will all be honored to know you!"
I looked into the admiring crowd, trying to find that girl again, but could not. I went to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found; she simply disappeared.
Finally, I went outside to get some fresh air and paused on the stairs, remembering my mom's story. The guys from the music school were hanging out in the yard, smoking. They looked at me and one of them exclaimed, "Ah, here comes the great musician! The Prince! Are you looking for fame and honor? Come here, we'll help you with recognition!" And they all started to approach me, ready to fall upon me, like a hawk on its prey. I prepared myself to fight, but the shock immobilized my entire body. In a second, they thrust me onto the stairs and started to kick me with their feet. The touch of their shoes, especially on my face, was most humiliating and even more painful than the strikes. Suddenly one of them shouted, "Someone’s coming! Let's get out quickly!" And in another second, they all escaped into the dark. I sat down on those stairs--bleeding, hurting and desperate. My whole future was collapsing in my mind. I put my wounded head down and cried.
At that moment someone came and sat down on the stairs right next to me. The touch of his shoulder was comforting. Only a close friend would do that, I thought, and opened my eyes. Of cause I recognized him; he was a door keeper in our music school. He was always there, all those years. I never spoke to him though.
"Who is the lamentation for?” he finally inquired, “Did someone pass away?” I tried to come up with a logical answer, "It was a very important day in my life. I expected to experience a real high, but instead I fell so low!"
The old man closed his eyes. For a minute. I thought that he might fall asleep right there on the stairs; but his answer revealed that he had heard exactly what I had said. "I agree;” he responded, “it is a very important day for you. As in music, so in life. A sharp is for the elevation of a note and a flat serves to lower it; but not much, only half a tone. You are a musician, you should understand that. It might take a lifetime to become a good one though."
I thought of a quicker solution, "What about a gift? You don't have to wait a lifetime to use it!"
He helped me to get up, as if I were an old man and he was my age. "Come with me;” he said, “your wounds need to be cleansed first." We went into a little room with different kinds of cleaning equipment. "Feel at home;” he said, “everyone knows me here, since I volunteer to clean in the music school.” As we sat down, he picked up the conversation, "You say ‘a gift’… The gift is like
a divine spark on the inside; it has been given, rather entrusted, to a person for a purpose. But you need to approach it with care, otherwise you will never discover what it is capable of.
Many years ago, this very building was the palace of a great Prince. Music was the passion of his life, and many musicians played in this very auditorium where you played tonight. One day the great Prince announced his search for original, inspiring musicians. Soon this unusual quest was heard far beyond his county, and musicians started to travel all over the world to play before the great Prince. There were no conditions--they didn't have to be famous, rich or even play perfectly. He declared that those who would move his heart with their music would be taken into his royal palace to become his personal musicians. And many came to try their fortune--all different kinds of musicians.
Indeed it was quite a title, A personal musician of the great Prince. Most of those who came didn't seem to have any genuine interest in playing music; they just wanted to take advantage of that unique opportunity to hold a leading position in the country. They sought promotion, which represented to them, a leadership position with influence. Their music could not be heard, the sound evaporated the very second they made it, it was not able to reach anyone. The great Prince was rather creative in expressing his judgment - defining their music as the barking of a dog or the braying of a donkey.
Still many of those musicians who came to play before the great Prince had real talent and played beautifully. Their sound was pleasant to the ears and some of them were virtuoso on their instruments."
"So, the great Prince took all of them in?" I ask, jumping ahead of the story.
"No, there was some sort of conflict in the atmosphere, a collision between two realities. One reality represented a divine spark, the gift from above, that you mentioned earlier; and the other one was represented by their soul.
"Hey! Wait a minute,” I interrupted him, “Everyone's got a soul-- me too. Does that mean that I'm not good enough as a musician?"
"This is the whole matter;” let me explain, “the soul we possess represents our personality and every single note of our musical expression has to pass through the soul, it's always involved. The problem is that our soul has a tendency to puff up in pride, especially when real talent is present. It would say to the spark: ’It's my ability! Things should be under my management here! I'm in charge over this musical expression from now on!’ Through reasons and arguments, it pushes the little fragile spark down and takes all the space."
I quieted down. I could certainly recognize that demanding voice in my own soul. At the same time, I remembered those amazing moments when I heard music which was moving like a wind, that enveloped your being in a glorious light. The conflict he described was very real inside me.
I asked him, "Is it possible to simply dispossess this soul with its ugly demands? Can its ambitions just fall off of me--like leaves from a tree?"
"Hmm…Interesting point of view,” he said. “I never heard that this happened to anyone. I wish it were that easy, simply to change your behavior, like clothes. But the soul is hidden deep inside a person and from there it spreads its influence into every area of their life. The spark is locked up and immobilized as long as the soul is the manager. No simple formula can solve this conflict. The purpose is not to destroy the soul, but to liberate the spark from under its control. And the Eternal God, Himself, the Giver of the spark--comes in as a surgeon, to cut the grip of the soul off of the spark. He intervenes for the sake of His own investment. The release of the spark requires serious surgery; whatever blocks the free flow of the spark must be removed--whether it's a big chunk or a small spatter. Sometimes the resistance of the soul is so strong, that the surgeon may need to reduce its activity in one way or another. From the outside it might look like a final stop. But true music never stops; it is simply a pause for a purpose.”
"But if you switch off the soul, what would be left for music?" I still didn't understand.
"No, you do not ‘switch it off;’” he said, “you just put it in its rightful place. It always tries to act out, but cannot go far. It always returns to the same place, like a swing, being attached to a bar with its self-made rules. It can only provide an illusion of a change. But once the surgery is done, the spark takes over. Everything comes alive in the music domain. The waters of life gush forward as a mighty river. The soul itself is gladly caught up in that movement. It was created to follow the flow of the spark! Oh! If only musicians would let the surgeon proceed and operate! They would experience true rest and comfort for their souls; they would reach the land of their desire, for only the spark can lead them there.”
“Meanwhile, the soul of a musician gets busy guessing what’s coming next: here should be a sharp and here comes a flat! Trust my experience. I understand harmony; I'm not a beginner! - it can easily wear you out with its content demands of recognition. Everyone is familiar with the voice of his soul”
I had to interrupt : ”But it's true! Every music key has its sharps or flats! All the years I studied music theory, are they now wasted?”
"No, but the Eternal God holds all the keys and in every situation, He will decide which one He needs to use. He is the composer of life-giving music and He knows exactly how your instrument would sound best. Once the spark of life is free to move, the music will become so natural for you--like breathing in and out. And every breath will resonate with that glorious sound of eternity. I've heard music that comes from a purified vessel. It has a sound that lifts you up and carries you on its wings. When people see the end result, they all can agree that it's a miracle; but they do not understand how it happened."
"Wow! How can I ever get there? I need to know more about that mysterious surgery! Do you know anyone who made it through?”
“Well… - he paused and smiled. - There were quite a few of them in the music school. Have you ever heard about Joseph, for example? He has an amazing story and people are still talking about him today.
He was one of the youngest boys in a very big family,” he continued. “His older brothers had to work hard; but he was too young to join them. His father favored Joseph more than his other children and didn't hide it. It led to hatred within the family."
"I understand,” I nodded my hurting head in agreement; “the orchestra conductor praised me today in front of the other students and I got hit as a result".
"You see, what happened to you is quite common, but for Joseph, it got even more intense. He had two prophetic dreams, in which the God of heaven showed him that he was predestined to become a leader and have great influence and honor. And, also, in spite of his present position in the family, even his own brothers would one day bow down before him," he said.
“Wow…"
"Yes, from the side it looked very impressive; but for Joseph, this great responsibility waiting for him in the future, presented a rather challenging journey that he had to endure. He had to be made fit for the task God had for him.
"What do you mean, ‘fit for the task’?"
"Every musician, before he can play, must learn to make a clear sound,” he explained. “Many ‘so called’ musicians will try to skip that part and simply play, but we're not talking about those. The true musicians have to have their sound purified first and that is where the surgery comes in.”
“Sharing his prophetic dreams with his family led to a rebuke by his father, and strong, unstoppable hatred from his brothers. They decided to get rid of Joseph, and one day there was an opportunity. His experience was a tough one: he was insulted, beaten, despised and treated with contempt. His own brothers threw him into a pit. He was lying there hurting; his dreams were dashed in pieces”.
"Did God also get angry at Joseph?" I asked.
"No. God loved him and watched over him. But He needed to purify His chosen vessel and make him pass through many different tests," he said.
"So, what happened next?" I asked.
"The God of heaven sent an Egyptian caravan into that place and Joseph was sold into Egypt as a slave. Can you imagine? Now he was harmed, debased and totally alienated from his family and home. But God kept His eyes on Joseph at all times. He arranged the circumstances in a way that the captain of the palace guard bought him. Very soon he noticed his exceptional qualities and promoted Joseph to be the head of his household," he added.
"That was a miraculous promotion to leadership,” I exclaimed, since the story started to make sense to me--there was a sharp!
"The surgery was not over though, and more trouble came his way--this time through his master's wife. She cast her eyes on Joseph and started nagging him daily to commit adultery with her. He could have easily agreed and taken advantage of his master's trust, but chose an attitude of integrity. One day, she was so persistent that the only option left for Joseph was to flee. The story got twisted, and Joseph, falsely accused, was thrown into prison for many years," he said.
"A flat! …Wait, did you say ‘many years’?!" - I was puzzled.
"There in prison, Joseph's life became a miracle. He didn't just survive the process, but came out as a victor. All through those afflictions he stayed connected to the eternal spark that helped him to make right decisions”.
One day, the surgeon put his knife aside and announced, "I perceive a clear sound!" And the surgery was over. "Now let us hear him play,” he added and started to unfold the events.
“The life of Joseph served as an instrument in God's hands to bring about mighty salvation to both Israel and Egypt. And those prophetic dreams came true; his brothers came, seeking food, and bowered down before Joseph - the Prince of Egypt. He could have taken advantage of his position and throw them into prison, but instead of vengeance, forgiveness came forth. And now everyone, both Joseph and his brothers, were in wonder of the music they heard”.
He took a deep breath and concluded: “There were many great musicians. Before they could produce a clear, soul piercing sound, a miracle had to take place”.
I forgot about my pain and looked at the old man, "Are you a musician? Instead of answering, he got up and stretched his hand to me, "I see you're feeling better already. Come with me, I'll show you my favorite room in the music school."
As we moved along the narrow, dark corridors, I noticed that he could find his way with his eyes closed, as if he had spent all his life in this building. "This music school is your home, isn't it?” -
I thought out loud. He didn't even turn his head, but kept walking.
"You're right,” he responded. “That great Prince I've told you about was my great grandfather. So many years have passed. Everything is different these days. Well, almost everything, except for the music. Ah, here is the room.” He opened the door of a storage room where many instruments were kept. All of a sudden his eyes lighted up with a spark of inspiration. He picked up a little harmonica from the shelf and put it to his mouth. A beautiful clear sound came forth. He laid it in its place, but it continued to resonate. Then he picked up many different wind instruments--trumpet, trombone, saxophone--one after another, and blew into each one of them. Then he went and started a simple melody on a xylophone; then he touched the strings of a harp. All those instruments suddenly became alive and continued to vibrate in perfect harmony.
“How is this possible?” - I wondered; but I couldn't ask him any more questions. He looked at me and said: "When you learn to follow that divine spark, the Eternal God, Himself, will play on the instrument of your life. He will reveal His life giving, endless presence through your music, and many will come to know Him. This is the land that He promised to us, an eternal inheritance.”
Suddenly, we both heard the sound of approaching heels—a woman’s shoes--and looked at each other. Before I could ask anything, the door opened and that same girl that I saw before the concert entered the room!
"Hi, Grandpa,” she said, and went to sit down next to the old man. “We didn't know what happened, it's so late…” He kissed her on the forehead and looked at me, "I want to introduce you to my granddaughter." I took a long pause…then finally responded: “I think we've already met…at the concert…" I wanted to say more, but didn't know where to start.
They got up to go. "Wait a minute!” I exclaimed, “If she is your granddaughter and you are the great grandson of the great Prince, then she is a descendant of royalty!” "You're right, she is a real princess. - He smiled at me, - By the way, I forgot to mention, when you follow the divine spark, things that seemed too wonderful to be true, suddenly appear."
Moving Forward
Letter Samech
With the wind blowing in my face, I was riding my horse…faster and faster. The still life was left far behind… I was on the move, courageously moving forward into my future! And then the carousel would stop.
I looked at my grandmother sitting on the bench and pleaded: "Can I please have another round?" Instead of simply nodding her head, she responded: "You've been turning non-stop for a long time already; come sit with me for a minute; you also need a break". I knew she had some candy for me and went to sit down on a bench next to her, trying to stop on the inside. She looked at me and wondered: "How can you do that? Isn't your head turning?" I lifted my head as a hero and proclaimed: " Grandma! I can go forever!"
She took a deep breath and responded: "Everything comes to an end one day… You never met your grandfather; he completed his circle of life before you were born… Oh! He was so handsome when I first met him. He was riding his horse like a hero, going round and round, making those magnificent turns…These memories are so sweet to me…"
"Sweet like this candy?" I interrupted her. She would smile and reach out to her basket for more. I would pick up: "Grandma, what do you mean 'to complete the circle of life'? Is life a carousel? Do we all move around something? What is it?"
"It would be hard to quench a curiosity like this one, she concluded and got up from the bench, “I feel so tired now, but one day I will surely give it a try.”
But this day never came. My grandmother left this world without ever answering my questions. So I was left to figure out this life on my own. No, I wasn't an orphan, but both my parents and my older brother were turning on their carousel of events - totally caught up in the movement. How do I know? I've been watching them. They say the same things over and over; they react in the same way day after day…It looks like they are playing the same role in a familiar show again and again, and the script never changes - only a few variations here and there.
Here was my familiar family circle: Dad worked as Head of a labor union and was completely locked in his world of politics and economics. Every morning at the breakfast table he read a news review from the ministry of information and announced to all of us the direction things were going to turn today. Mom worked as a hairdresser in a beauty salon and knew lots of people. Every day she would listen to her clients' complicated stories, problems and complaints. "I wish I could take my scissors and simply cut those entangled knots off their lives, but it's impossible! - she would exclaim in desperation. - I don't have answers for them; I can only fix their hair!" Though imperfect, her world was very orderly and organized; with the years, she really mastered the skill of classifying people and situations into categories: from their hairstyles to their lifestyles. Usually in the middle of breakfast, my older brother would show up in the kitchen, stinking terribly and looking like a dirty sponge. Dad would scan him with disgust and start the usual quarrel: "You came drunk again last night! Why? I've told you that I'm not going to tolerate this behavior anymore!"
"Yesterday he had a reason,” my mom would try to mediate between them; ”it was a party for the end of the school year." But my dad would not listen to her: "I don't want my son to live like a pervert and a drunkard! Look! He absorbs everything without even filtering!"
"Dad, I'm not a child anymore!” - my brother would raise his voice, - I will decide for myself. I don't want your restrictions!"
"I'm in charge of this house, - dad would switch to shouting, - and you have to accept my rules!" But my brother would persist: "I don't want to be locked in your prison, dad! You still don't understand. We have different filters for life; we see it differently! Don't drag me into your world;
I have one of my own."
My mom, as usual, would try to fix the situation: "Enough of disputes please! We all have a long day before us. Somewhere there should be a reason to be happy. Even the smallest one would be enough to take us through this day!"
At that moment each would hold fast to their horse and off they went into their day, around and around…
But one thing was surely different: they were not as happy as I was as a little boy on that wooden horse…Maybe someone did put them on that carousel against their will? Maybe they would gladly stop that endless turning and do something else in life… but is there anything else to do? What is it then? Maybe they were afraid to fall off their horse or whatever else they rode on - afraid not to make it to the next round? And the movement went on and on… Surely we were not the only ones; the entire world around us was turning. People recognized each other by their position on the carousel. There was almost no time even to look at someone else - much less to stop and answer questions about life…
"Not that we like it, but at least we know what will happen tomorrow", my mom would answer. "Life is a complicated subject; it is wrapped up in so many layers", my dad would add. "Life is a party for one and a prison for another", my older brother would conclude. But those answers didn't make it any clearer.
Everyone called me "curious", but for me it meant so much more… Since the death of my grandmother, I understood that my mission in life was to take off that many-layered camouflage, like you would take a mask from someone's face, and uncover the hidden truth. The whole world around me, though, seemed to accept this endless turning as the most normal mode of existence -merry going round and round…
One morning my mom announced: "They just opened a unique new restaurant on the roof of the city center. Its floor is the platform that's turning around. Imagine! We sit to have a meal and our view constantly changes, we got to see all around! I invite all of you tonight; let's have a party!"
"I'll come", shouted my older brother on the way to the kitchen.
Dad reached for the news report, as usual, and started to read: "One minister was caught in speculation with government money and making a trade with lots of falsified documents… It led to a split in the government; each part is accusing the other one of distorting reality."
"Are things going to be different now, dad?" I asked him.
"No, our life will continue as usual. It's only a shifting", he assured everyone, including himself. "Rather a change of a hairstyle” - corrected my mom. "Whatever direction you turn the dreidel, it will always come to the same spot,”- concluded my older brother.
"No, there is a different way to live!”- I announced to everyone’s surprise. All of them looked at me. Now I owed them an explanation.
"Who told you this, son?" inquired my dad.
"A librarian…Our teacher was sick yesterday and we went to the library with our class. The librarian asked me what my interests were and I told him that I want to find out if there is anything else in life besides endless turning on a carousel… He took me aside and brought me a book, saying: 'you might find your answers here.' - Here it is." I reached in my schoolbag and put the book on the table. As I opened it, dazzling light shone from its pages and illuminated the entire kitchen.
"This kind of light is damaging for your eyes,” commented my mom with concern.
“Let me see,” said my dad. I closed the book and handed it to him. We all waited for his final judgment. "Let me see closer…”- He turned it around and exclaimed: “I thought so! It doesn't have an authorization stamp from the ministry of information! Some years ago it was already classified as a dangerous book. You should take it back today."
"But dad… I need to know…" I tried to refute.
"We all know your exceptional curiosity, but now your job is to listen,”- he answered firmly, putting my book in his briefcase. -“I’ll meet you after school and we'll go there together. It's not negotiable. Now I have to go to work, Bye everyone."
"Don't forget the party,”- shouted my mom, in an attempt to restore a happy feeling for the day.
Here I am, waiting for my dad in the schoolyard. Maybe he will be late? Maybe something will change? I looked at the sky for an answer and noticed the first signs of a coming storm. “What about the party?” - I asked myself, and saw my dad running towards me. "We have to hurry, the library will close in a couple of minutes,” he said and quickly grabbed my hand. I wanted very much to turn around and go home; but he practically dragged me to the library door. The old librarian was switching the lights off and was ready to leave. "Pardon me!” -started my dad, blocking the door. “We have an issue, which needs to be solved urgently; it can't wait until tomorrow."
The old man took a step back to look at us and recognized me. "You were looking for answers, did you find them?” - he asked me.
"I only opened it,” - I responded and blushed.
"This is exactly the issue,” - interrupted my dad. - You told my son to read a book which was already removed from print years ago! This is intolerable behavior for a government employee, which you are!"
"I understand that you mean well to protect your son…” - started the old man patiently and sat down, - you’re right; no printing company will agree to supply this particular book nowadays. But through the years, I kept one copy for my personal use. I, also, had many questions about life, very similar to those your son has…and I found the answers. Do you want to hear them?”
"This book does not have an authorization stamp! Do you understand how dangerous it is to even open it? And you're telling my son to find answers about life inside it?!” - My dad was standing in front of him, angry and tall. Suddenly the old librarian also stood up and looked fearlessly into my dad's eyes: "I tell you that this particular book has much greater authority than all of the authorization ministries together! You can continue to wear your mask, refusing to see the truth, but one day it might be too late for you. Doesn't your life look like a prison to you? Haven't you got enough?"
"You will answer for those words!!” - Shouted my dad, enraged, - I will make sure you end up in prison, totally dissociated from society for the rest of your life!" He grabbed my hand again. ”Let's go son!“ and he proudly went through the door of the library. I turned to look at the old man and saw hope in his eyes, as if he were saying to me: "Don't worry, you'll be OK".
Finally, we arrived at the restaurant. My mom had put on her new dress and curled her hair; even my older brother looked well ordered. The place was packed with people. All the elite of society came to honor this big opening. Mom was the first one to spot a little table and ran towards it, only to find out that it was reserved for some important people. Eventually we found a free table and settle down. People around us were greeting each other and admiring this new place. When the noise stopped, the owner of the restaurant appeared in the center of the platform with a microphone in his hand. "Welcome to all our honored guests,” - `his first words were followed by a round of applause. “Before we start serving our first meal, I want to dedicate this unique restaurant to our new governor." It became so quiet; people looked around with a question mark on their faces…The owner picked up after a pause: "I suppose you already read in the news review this morning about a split in the government. The conflict between two opposing parties escalated and this afternoon the right party obtained full authority." People looked at each other…and started to applaud again. And then everything started to turn. Besides normal joy, people wanted to show each other how happy they were about a change in the government… My dad looked down, closed within himself.
"What's the matter, honey?” - my mom, a bit worried.
He looked around, making sure that no one else was listening and said: "Do you remember the report I wrote about that governor a few years ago?"
“Well… - my mom tried to come up with a solution, - if they ask you, you can always say that you were young and it was a mistaken presumption… and that your whole value system was distorted…but now you have changed…"
Dad looked at mom intensely, then answered: "You're right, I’ve changed… but not in a good direction."
My older brother sat on the other side of my dad with a glass of whisky: "Come on, dad, it's your turn to drink. You'll forget your troubles and rejoice like everyone else."
"Thank you son". He took the glass from the table and in that moment all the music stopped and the owner of the restaurant came a second time to the center of the platform. Silence marked the moment. He checked the microphone and announced: "Ladies and Gentlemen!
I apologize for a little pause in our joyful celebration, but I need to announce a few resolutions, which have been already signed by our new government,” and he went on to read from a paper:
-
Unauthorized merchandise on the streets is forbidden.
-
You will not be allowed to appear outside your house between ten o'clock at night and five in the morning. An elite army unit is designated to keep order in your environment.
-
Everyone with a skin disease will have to leave the city within next twenty four hours.
-
You are not authorized to speak any word, contrary to the official opinion, expressed by the ministry of information.
-
Any refusal to assist the authorities will be punishable by at least ten years of imprisonment.
-
And the last one: The labor union is dismissed and not authorized to regather.”
At that moment everyone's head looked in the direction of our table. My older brother put a glass to dad's mouth: "Drink dad, it really helps, I know!"
"I don't want their drinks anymore son, they are poisonous," He answered and got up.
"We have to leave, - said my mom in every direction to the question marks, surrounding us.
Finally, we were outside. It felt like stepping down from the carousel… I remembered my grandmother… A big storm was just about to hit. Suddenly dad turned to all three of us and said: "You should go straight home. I will come later; I have something important to do."
"Please be home before ten!” - pleaded my mom, but dad had already disappeared into the dark stormy night.
We went home. None of us knew if dad would ever make it back. My brother and I went to sit on the couch next to mom. “Well… - started my older brother, -dad is not that hard, as I always thought… I never saw him this real… until tonight.” Mom hugged both of us really close and burst into tears… I was the first one to fall asleep…
and the first one to wake up. I saw my dad's happy face right in front of mine. In the beginning
I thought I was dreaming, but then, both my mom and my brother woke up and stared at him, perplexed. "Come to the table,” he called, - I prepared breakfast for all of you. It's a new day. I need to tell you everything.
We all sat down at the table and he started: "First I walked in the dark without any sense of direction… Then the storm hit really hard. The rain was so dense, that I needed to hide somewhere quickly. Looking for a covering, I stopped next to a big tree; there I saw an old man, coming towards me. I thought he was a peddler. I wanted to warn him about the new laws and the patrol, but then I saw that he was… - he looked at me… - the librarian. He recognized me right away; he wasn't even surprised to meet me on the street at that hour in a storm. As soon as he reached me, he grabbed my hand and practically dragged me to a little booth, standing next to the old garage, and pushed me inside.
’I didn't know you had this much strength,’ I said to him.
'It was supernatural,’ - he responded and pointed to the direction we had came from. I looked and saw a violent wave of the storm tumbled the tree down, sweeping the very ground away from the place I was standing a minute ago! I turned to the old man in awe, waiting for an explanation.
'I knew we were going to meet again and as the storm hit, I went to look for you.' - he said.
’But why?' - I exclaimed in wonder.
'God Almighty had a plan and He wanted to use me to save your life.’ - He offered to me a comfortable chair and continued, - ‘This booth is called 'The secret place of the Most High', you're safe here. The storm cannot touch it.'
I remembered our first meeting and was so ashamed of myself. 'Please forgive me,’ - I asked him, - ’my perception of life was so distorted…'
'It is surely easier to see once your mask is off. - He replied with smile. - Would you like to read from my book now?' I hesitated for a minute. 'Don't worry,’ he said, like he was reading my thoughts, ‘its light is not damaging to the eyes, it’s only damaging to the mask. It burns it off. People fear to be exposed and try to get rid of the book. It's that simple.'
He sat down next to me, opened the book and started to read… all through the night. At five in the morning he said he needed to leave. He made a little drawing for me of the safe road home and here I am."
"What? That's it?!? - I was beside myself, - Is that all there is to the story?! Where are the promised answers?"
"I needed to stop there, son, because it's both the end and the beginning. We read that there is one big highway, which God Almighty Himself built for His redeemed ones; and that we are his chosen people, chosen to walk on that highway and declare His eternal glory!"
"Wow! Let's go find that highway!” - I exclaimed and got up.
"We are going… But I don't want to simply make a tour and come back… We are moving, - he got up and declared - We are moving forward. We're leaving this place and never turning back. Let's hurry, before the carousel starts."
"We cannot simply leave, - suddenly concluded my mom, - what about all those… important people? The situation we are in now, is so entangled, it will take a long time to work on all those knots…"
Dad came to hug her and said: "This time, like you always wished, we will take scissors and cut all those knots off!"
"But how?” - mom cried out in desperation.
"We simply forgive them and move on.” - he assured her.
Suddenly her face changed and she uttered: "I trust you, I'm going."
"Count me in dad,” said my brother and added, “You are in charge."
Probably for the first time dad looked at him so loving and serious at the same time: "Thank you for saying this son, but now I understand that charge was entrusted to me by God Himself. Now I choose His word as my final authority in every area."
Dad looked at me. "I'm ready!" - I exclaimed before he could ask me. I ran to open the door for everyone and thought of another question: "Dad, how we will find that highway?"
"We will come to the road junction, and the direction of the highway will be indicated," he explained.
"But what if we don’t make the right turn?” - I persisted.
Dad stopped and looked at me, as if I were the most important person to him; then said: "Son, we don't need to try to figure out and calculate the future; when we get there, we will know what to do. But now, we need to be patient and simply do what is right in front of us, agreed?"
"Yes, captain." I saluted him as a soldier and stepped out the door.
Your Guide into the Future
Letter Ayn
His army time my dad served in the air force and was an excellent pilot. Once his best friend told me that my dad was flying in his little plane like a bird of prey, without any fear or restraint. Now they both were in the reserve for some very special tasks.
In spite of life’s challenges, my dad was always cheerful and encouraged; to be around him was a true delight… but now he looked distressed. We both sat down near my mom’s hospital bed and waited for the doctor to come in. “Is mom gonna be well again, like she was in the past?” – I asked him, but he didn’t respond. I felt nervous and confused. Time seemed to stop… A strange mist filled all the space around me like a thick cloud. I stepped into the middle of it… Suddenly doctor’s loud voice brought me back to the hospital room: “She deserves a gold medal, - said he, - pointing at mom, - she survived a serious stroke.” All three of us looked at her: she was laying there unconscious. My father didn’t answer a word, but waited for the doctor to continue. “She will recover, - he answered our silent question and added – it’s a matter of time. And we need to give her all the time she would need”.
My dad’s phone broke the silence. “I have to answer, it’s an emergency, - said he and stepped out of the room. The doctor tapped me on the shoulder and affirmed: ”The most dangerous is already in the past. Her full recovery is waiting for us in the future… we will get there! Be courageous!”
My dad came back and we left hospital right away. Without mom our home seemed empty and abandoned. I looked at my dad in hope to come out from that confusing present fog, but he said: “My best friend… he is missing…he disappeared during an operation. I am the one who knows that area best. I should fly there and find him. I know in my heart that he is alive.” He was arranging matters in his head, jumping from one to the other with the speed of light. “You shouldn’t stay here alone, - he said, you should… remember that housekeeping lady that used to come here few years ago? She was also your nanny when you were a little boy… She always invited you to come visit her. She lives… I must have an envelope somewhere with her address… He disappeared behind the door of his office and in a twinkling of an eye was already back with the envelope. She lives in “the city of the past”. You will go there for a vacation.” I was so tired, but tried very hard to keep my eyes open, not to miss anything.
My dad hugged me and said: “Here is what I’ve learned: Flying through a turbulent cloud is always scary: hard to see, shaky, confusing. But if you hold on to the right direction and keep going, you will surely come out onto the other side into the clear delight! I will find my friend and mom will be ok again. Believe me, in the soon future we will make this transition onto the other side.”
Upon those words, I fell asleep with the envelope in my hand…
and woke up, laying in a hammock, wrapped in a very large cloth. As I started to open up the cloth, figuring out where I was, a big woman approached me and tried to practically lift me up from the hammock as a mother would pick up her baby from a crib. I felt embarrassed and jumped on my feet. But before I could rebuke her for such familiarity, she wrapped her arms around me and exclaimed: “My boy, my boy! What a delight is to see you again!” I felt immediate transition into the past, pleasant memories filled my entire being and I whispered: “Nanny!” She kept talking: “You became much heavier… but it doesn’t matter. I always dreamed about your visit! I have to step out for a while, but please feel home. You are a big boy, you can figure it out.” – and she simply disappeared.
On my first day in the city of the past I went to explore the area. But what I found was indeed not a joyful picture: Narrow dusty roads, each of those led to the field with a very high grass, a thicket, which was impossible to pass. Houses looked dull and moldy and every face I saw, reflected fatigue and hardship.
“Something is wrong with this picture of the world, it’s distorted, - I thought, - It looked rather like a black and white photograph of something in the past…”
Suddenly I saw my nanny right in the photograph. She asked:
“What’s the matter my boy? You don’t look very happy… you're not having a good day?”
I tried to explain myself: “I’m having a vacation, you see… Is there anything pleasant to do here?”
“Oh, sure! Life would be unbearable without pleasure! – She replied, -when you were a little boy, you used to lunch your kite and dream about the future. That will make a good vacation, wanna do that? When you grew up and moved on with your life, you left it behind… but I kept it till now. Here it is.”
“Ok, - I agreed, and looking at my old kite, wondered – Is there a space for it to fly?”
She had a ready answer: “Of cause, behind our house there is a little trail through the field. It leads to an old harbor. There would be a good spot for you to lunch your dreams.”
“But nanny, that grass is so tall! - I still doubted her idea.
She looked at me from head to toe and concluded: “You’ve grown taller than the grass, you should make it.”
I finally made it to that place… The water was moving and fresh, it presented a world of its own, it didn’t belong to the city of the past. I went straight ahead…
“Watch your step! – came nanny’s voice behind me, - I’m used to watch over you all the time, - she explained, coming closer to me, - so I followed you… just in case.”
“Sure, I understand, - I answered and assuming a role of a little boy, asked her - Tell me nanny, if there is a harbor, then there should be boats… Where are they?”
She sat down on a large stone next to me and said:
”A great mighty river starts here; it’s very large and covered with a thick cloud of mist, like a substance of a smog, no one could ever perceive clearly the other shore… Long time ago there was a ferry boat coming to this harbor, but not anymore. In my lifetime, I never saw a boat here. The legend says that on the other side there is a city of the future and that life in that city is very bright and luxurious. There is no poverty or oppression. It’s a supreme world, a true paradise, a pure delight!”
“Why wouldn’t people travel there, if it’s only a river away?” - I asked in amazement.
“The current in the middle of the river is so intense and dangerous that no one who ever dared to travel to the other side came back alive. - Nanny took a deep breath and added - I think you are big enough to understand that… But now it’s your bed time.”
“Why would people want to come back into the past?” Those thoughts were such a heavy load for my brain, that I quickly fell sound asleep.
I opened my eyes in the same hammock with the kite in my hand and this time without thinking too long went straight to the harbor.
“I know you’re old and probably were folded for too long, - I said to my kite, - but you are made to fly.”
I opened it with caution and lunched it in the air. I looked up and was amazed at what I saw: picked up by the wind, my kite was dancing so exuberant, enjoying freedom to be what it was made to be, its existence became meaningful in a twinkling of an eye!
I closed my eyes and remembered my father’s words: “in the soon future… we will come out onto the other side, into a clear delight”.
“I must venture into the city of the future, even if it’s uncertain and scary, I don’t have another option!” - I told myself and looked up again to find my kite in the sky… Where was it? … Ah, here it is. It landed on the ground, right next to me. I picked it up and saw a message written on it: “At midnight a ferry boat will depart from the harbor onto the other side, into the city of the future.”
I looked around… Who could play a game like that with me? Who wrote those words on my kite, while it was flying up there? Can it possibly be true? What if it is true… even if I can’t see the one who promised? Maybe he is unseen? I held my kite close to my chest and said:
“I choose to believe this promise”.
Then I remembered nanny and rushed back and tell her the news, but could not find her. Invigorated,
I felt an urge to go and share that valuable information with all the others.
“It’s gonna be a busy day, - I thought and went out to share the good news.
The first person I met was an old gentleman wearing his sunglasses and pushing a carriage of stuff towards me.
“I have good news for you sir: this night a ferry boat will take us into the city of the future!” – I started without an introduction.
He answered slowly, making sure I understand every word he said:
“These words surely sound like good news to someone who can see. I have heard that future is a beautiful colorful place… but I am blind; suffering and hard labor mudded my vision and I stopped seeing the future. I don’t even look anymore in that direction. To arrive to the future and not being able to see is a real torment. My choice is made. I prefer to stay.”
Two other men, passing near us, became interested in our conversation and stopped to comment on the subject:
“Oh, the city of the future is a conspiracy theory, it doesn’t exist! I’m telling you this is one of the games of the rich people. They have a hidden agenda ‘to put us on that ferry boat and hold us all hostages, stuck between the past and the future’. It’s a sure way to die. They want to confiscate the only treasure we have left – our past!”
“Poor people, poor logic, - responded the blind man and turned to me, - young man, if you have eyes, you should go and see for yourself!” He sneezed and suddenly his whole face twisted. He said:
“I better get going, Mr. Chimney is around and I am extremely sensitive to smoke.” – and he left immediately.
I noticed a fellow coming in my direction, with a big briefcase under his arm; that load seemed to be pretty heavy for him. I didn’t like the smell either, but remembered my mission and started a conversation with him. When he came close to me, I started: “Excuse me sir…”
But he nervously replied before I could finish my sentence:
“I’m not a cigarette industry! Especially for strangers! If you want one, go buy for yourself!”
“I wanted to offer you some good news, Mr. Chimney”, – I answered as he was walking away from me.
He came back, looking offended and inquired:
“We never met before, why would you choose to insult me by calling me “Mr. Chimney”? Or maybe you have this prickly approach to strangers?”
“Excuse me, I thought it was your name… I didn’t know” – I tried my best to repair the situation.
“Never mind, - he said and sadly looked away, -what have you got for good news?”
“Tonight, a ferry will depart from the old harbor into the city of the future! -I said, - and you can leave all the load of your past behind you!”
He paused, looking within himself, then replied:
“You, a total stranger to me, making declarations like that? You don’t even know my life – how many times I was abused, abandoned and humiliated! – He opened his briefcase and looked through his papers, - Each of those maltreatments are documented right here. This is my life! You attempt to distort my past history! How dare you?”
“No, not to distort, but maybe to update…” – I suggested.
“Sure, - he sarcastically nodded his head, - by extracting important details out of it.”
“But the future is so much better than the past!” - I kept trying.
“Future is an illusion for those who are running away from their past! - He concluded, irritated. - And listen, your strange ideas are not relevant to my life!”
Tired from that conversation, I sat down on the wooden bench, thinking: “Why would someone choose to make a loop around his own neck?”
The sky over my head started to dim and I said to myself:
“One more person and I will have to go to the harbor… I’d better wait there. I cannot afford to miss the ferry!”
At this moment I saw a rich looking man, getting out of his old but luxury car. I run towards him, shouting:
“Sir, did you hear the good news?”
He looked down at me and smiled:
“I own the media industry in this city and we are broadcasting the most up to date information. Which news you wanted to surprise me with?”
“About the ferry boat… tonight it will depart from the old harbor to the city of the future!”
“Interesting… - He replied with no emotion, - So what’s the deal here? What do you offer me?”
“I’m telling you about this incredible opportunity to make a transitinto the city of the future, which is far superb from the city of the past! New technologies, brighter colors…” – I exclaimed with enthusiasm, improvising on the spot.
“Where did you hear this point of view? It is foreign to all of us. I have an excellent position in the society; the business is on the rise. Your idea sounds to me like a crafty deal… - he almost left, but turned around right away, - Let’s get to the point, since I don’t know for sure that it will work, I need a deposit. How much you’re willing to give?”
I was shocked by his answer, but held myself together: “You cannot afford it I guess, the price is to believe!” and I went away from him.
“Hey! Where are you headed? Is there something interesting?” - I heard a voice behind me.
“If someone wants to know, I shouldn’t ignore him”, - I thought and turned around. I saw a fellow, lying under a tree. I went to sit next to him and asked:
“Do you really want to know?”
“Sure, why not? I’ve got all the time to listen… I don’t work anyway, I’m unemployed.”
“Here it is: at midnight… actually in couple of hours, a ferry boat will depart from the old harbor into the city of the future. And there will be everything you need, including employment. – I declared boldly and added – we need to rush not to miss it!”
“Wait a minute! Why are you so sure I want to go?
I understand it’s important to lust after something, but I’m not a fan of this kind of action. I prefer to enjoy my life here, lying under a tree, doing nothing.” – He responded to me and looked in a different direction. A young woman in a short dress and on high heels was passing by. Pointing out to her, he added: “here comes my action.”
He got awake at once and called out: “Come over baby! Look, the grass here under this tree is better than a bed in a rich hotel. Let’s enjoy some delicacy together!”, but she passed by without even looking.
He turned back to me in anger:
“Stop annoying me with your stupid offers! I’m not going under any pretext!”
On my way to the harbor I joyfully opened the door of nanny’s house… She was sitting at the table, next to a man, looking very sad and weary.
“What’s the matter? – I asked her, but instead the men opened his mouth: “Here you are. I never thought to meet you under these circumstances… I’m a lawyer in this city and a public worker also… And here is a petition from the residents, demanding your immediate arrest. I helped them to edit it, - he picked up a document from the table and showed me, - and they all signed it: lazy, rich, offended, fearful, and stubborn. The blind refused to sign, I wonder why… If you want to know the charges against you, read it for yourself,” – He handed to me the document and went outside to smoke a cigarette.
“To the highest court of the city of the Past:
Recently a foreign propaganda was spread in our city – a mystical story about a ferry boat that is supposed to arrive to an old harbor to transport the residents of the city of the past into the city of the future. This activity should be immediately stopped for the following reasons:
1.The one and only witness of this information is a young fellow who states that the statement was written on his kite. He is unable to provide any certification or even identify clearly the source of it. He is persuaded that has received this information from “somewhere above”, which clearly indicates that his head is in the clouds.
2. His testimony is utopic (no one ever saw a ferry boat, arriving to the old harbor – we all are willing to testify of that).
3. His testimony stirs up the confusion in our peaceful environment and questions the values of our society.
In the light of all of the above we ask for the immediate arrest of the law-breaker and his consequent punishment.
People of the City of the Past! Let us stand up for ourselves! We need to stop that foreign propaganda from afflicting our souls!”
I finished reading and looked at nanny: “What should I do?”
She nodded her head: “It’s a serious offense… The only option for you would be to face the present. By doing this you will step out from the past into a different world with different laws… “ – and she pointed in the direction of the river.
I wrapped my arms around her: “Thanks nanny, I always knew that you are a genius! Let’s go!”
But she didn’t move from the chair.
“I cannot go, - she said, - I made my choice years ago, when I married that man… The lawyer you just met is my husband. I always wanted to move forward, but he was so stubborn in his position, saying that I, as a woman should simply submit… so this is what I decided to do. But you… you shouldn’t tarry a minute longer!”
I run through the high grass to the harbor…
“Come on quickly, it’s midnight, we’re ready to depart!” – urged me a voice ahead. I wish I could see something, but it was too dark… Here was my moment for a daring feat. I closed my eyes and jumped onto the ferry.
“Welcome on board, - said the man next to me and introduced himself – I’m a ferry worker, I make sure people get to the city of the future. We should get there before dawn.”
Those words alone filled my entire being with pleasure. I sat back and asked him:
“I am your only passenger - How come?”
“You know the answer better than I, – he replied. - You went to talk to the people… Remember their responses? Everyone had his reasons to stay in the past. By the way, you are my only passenger, I’m all yours. While we traveling through the present, you can ask me any question you want."
“I closed my eyes to think and a question flew into my mind:
“…I had my eyes closed to jump onto the ferry… I had my eyes closed right before I found the kite with a promise written upon it… Was it a coincidence? With my eyes open I cannot see the whole picture… Like pieces that are missing in a puzzle… to open or close my eyes: what is better?”
“Great question! – said the ferry worker with enthusiasm and sat on the deck next to me. – This story will help you understand:
Very far in the past lived two first human beings: Adam and Eve. God who created them, placed them in “the Garden of Eden”, life was indeed full of pleasure for them. They didn’t have to work hard and enjoyed an unbroken communion with their Creator, who delighted in them; they were the crown of all His creation. God intended for them to partake from the tree of life, which He planted in the middle of the garden, and live forever. There was also another tree there: a tree of the knowledge of good and evil, which God forbade them to eat from… It wasn’t difficult to keep those instructions; all they had to do was to trust God as their resource of life, knowing that He wants their very best.
But one day the enemy entered that harmonious perfect world. He confronted the very essence of their lives – a communion with their Creator. and trust in Him. With cunning words he spoke with Eve and invited her to open her eyes on his twisted picture of the world. He perverted the truth by mixing it with his crooked schemes and in his own version of the world, where God was no longer the source of their existence, but rather a hindrance to desired knowledge, freedom and fulfillment. This twisting of the reality became so destructive for both of them: instead of worshipping God they had to work the earth, which was cursed for the sake of their disobedience; their lives turned into a slavery to sin. They‘ve lost the promise of the eternal life forever… If only Eve would choose to close her eyes on all those lies, she would have kept the truth in her heart and the outcome would be so different!”
“I understand, I had exact same struggles, - I replied, reflecting on my conversations in the city of the past, - but tell me, is there anything in the past, which is not that bad? Do you have another story?”
“Of cause, - he said, - if you’re not tired to listen, why not? Without good in our past, how would we have arrived into the present?
Once upon a time there lived a man by the name Abraham. He walked with God and served Him wholeheartedly, but one day he had to pass a very difficult test… I would need to go a bit deeper into the past for you to understand. God choose to make Abraham a father of many nations, but his wife Sarah was barren and both of them were already quite old. In spite of all that, God was faithful to His promise and brought forth a child: their son Isaak was a miracle! And the day came when God wanted to test Abraham and told Him to go to mount Moriah to sacrifice that miracle child, his only treasure…
Centuries passed and we still talking about Abraham’s daring feat. He bound his son Isaak and went to the mountain. No, he wasn’t blind, but he stood the testing without restraint and didn’t faint in the process…as if he was voluntarily “blind” to the present reality for the sake of the future. And he received his son back as if God would grant him a gold medal for his faith.
Deep in his heart he always knew that God is his only source of life. He fixed his eyes on that truth and inherited his future promise.
The future belongs to God and He reveals it to us step by step through His testimony. But our job is to guard our eyes, for whatever you’re looking at, will fashion your life and guide you. To fix your eyes on the unseen and to hold on to the testimony in your heart is a serious challenge, but only that has a power to bring you into your promised future.
I can only travel with you till here… Now go ahead and have a courageous journey!”
Breaking Through
Letter Pei
No, not to boast… I only want to introduce myself! I am a person you would love to meet and even more – to become friends with. From my early age, I assumed a role of a producer in life, I make things happen. I got to choose all the special effects and the tricks, as well as scenery and decorations. I’m not naïve, I understand that real life can have some crooked turns, but I’m clever enough to avoid them. I am my own chief and my own inspector. I’m a lavish spender, but always have more than enough to sustain myself. I cannot be manipulated by others and I’m not a looser. I’m simply exempt from life’s problems. I am a walking miracle… But I usually don’t talk about all that, I let people around me figure it out by themselves.
That year I was in the middle of my college studies. It was a spring time and all the students loved to hang out in the park during breaks. I stood under a blossoming tree, imagining a magnificent unfold of my soon future, as I saw a new face. “I’ve got to check her out,” - I said to myself and went to meet a girl who only recently arrived to the campus.
“I was here two years ago, - she explained to a small group of students around her, - But I had to miss a year and a half. I needed to take care of my grandmother… Now she died and I came back to my study.”
“Seems like a large overdo of family duties. I surely would have found some kind of a compromise"… - I commented and walked away… But I noticed that everyone else in the college was drawn to her, on every break there were students surrounding her – chatting, laughing, simply having fun. I wondered: “What is so special about her? She doesn’t seem to be too hard of a nut to crack… I should give it a try!” - I finally decided.
It was a last day of study before the Passover holiday, I approached her during the break and went straight on:
“Are you free tonight?”
She smiled and didn’t answer a word. I continued:
“I invite you out to a really nice place, you will love it…”
“I don’t really know you” – she finally responded.
“Oh, no problem. We can solve that easily. I’m not a criminal, I’m sober-minded… and when we go out, I promise to tell you about myself – all the details you would want to know!”
She kept thinking for couple more minutes and then came up with a totally unexpected answer:
“I’m going to the house of my grandparents for the holiday; tonight it will be a big family gathering for a Passover meal… I invite you instead to come with me and meet my family.”
I was so content, assuming that she was even more interested in me than I’m in her:
“Sounds like the best offer for tonight! How far is that?”
“It is a long way, about three hours. Plus, the tunnel is closed and you will have to drive on a narrow mountain road… it might take even longer…” - she explained…
“Time for action!” - I acclaimed, as she sat down next to me in my new car. I turned the key and off we went. I was so exited about my quick success and started to hum a happy tune.
“So, we have three hours to chat. You wanted to get to know me… You may ask anything you want to know!” – I started a conversation.
“What do you do on your free time, beside the study? What’s your life about?” – followed her question.
I leaned back on my comfortable chair and announced: “I am a producer in life, I make things happen. I’m my own stunt man and my own hero. I’m smart and can easily get along with life. I was simply born this way. I’ve got a lucky piece of life’s cake and now I’m preparing a sensation for the whole filmmaking industry!”
I surely expected some sort of admiration to my introduction, but she didn’t demonstrate any of that.
“So, it’s all about you and your grandeur…” – she concluded and quieted down.
“Then, maybe we should start with you… What’s your life is about? - I asked her in return.
“I am a simple person. Life is fascinating to me. I really love to study in the college… but I also loved to simply take care of my grandmother. She was a wonderful woman! She taught me how to trust the Almighty God as a life Producer. The time I spent in their house, was priceless! I’ve learned so much. I’ve learned things that you can never learn in college…”
“What for example?” – I interrupted her.
She thought for a minute.
“A lesson of breaking through to life: Every flower, for example, being a bud, is locked and hidden in the beginning, but as it grows, it bursts through into a different dimension for the whole world to enjoy its fragrance and its magnificent blossom! Or a butterfly… It is locked in the cocoon until the day it’s ready to be released and then miraculously that cocoon cracks and breaks open and the butterfly is free and the beauty is spread all around! Look! Even this beautiful sunset… - she pointed to the sky, - this amazing beauty will be locked in the darkness of the night until the breaking of a dawn.
The Almighty God as a Producer, always includes a scene of breaking through to life. The output will depend on our cooperation, I mean if we choose to follow His original script.”
She was so near and unapproachable in the same time. As if she was living in a realm that required a certain password key to enter in. I kept wondering “Where should I start?”
She seemed to be reading my thoughts and continued: “There is a gap between us and life is so much better on the other side.”
I got out my usual answer: “How much do I need to defray to get onto the other side? Come on... tell me. I’ve got what it takes.”
“I don’t doubt that you do… - she smiled, - it will cost you everything you’ve got.”
“That’s blunt exaggeration!”
“It always looks like that from afar.”
I didn’t agree to lose that game: ”Hey, are we getting any closer?
Actually, we were stuck in traffic on that narrow mountain road.
“Let’s take a shortcut someplace, - I suggested, - I have good tires.”
“No, you can’t make any shortcuts here, - interrupted the girl, pointing at the road workers all around, - they are digging this mountain in many places, holes are everywhere.”
“Hmm… what for? Is there something special around here?” - I inquired.
“They are searching for an ancient Portal. Somewhere inside this mountain there is a secret tunnel that leads to it.”
“Now they can only find some old ruins, - I commented with a voice of an expert.
“No, it’s still there, - she insisted, - and it is a doorway into the miraculous! They don’t talk about it openly, but I know.”
“How?” – I questioned her.
“My grandmother told me… right before she died.”
We both got silent for a few minutes. She continued: “Every day people come to protest against this project, all those excavations are very inconvenient for the travelers… But I believe that this Portal is so important and if those workers can help other people to discover it, it will be a miracle in itself.”
After three and a half hours of driving in the traffic we arrived to our destination. Children of all ages were running around.
“My grandfather lives alone now, - explained the girl, - all the others are here for the special occasion.”
I got introduced to everyone and finally we all sat down at the big table. “Not to overeat”, - I ordered to myself as one of the women brought in the meat from the oven. I leaned towards my friend and asked her:
“Pass me that big slice, would you? I’m hungry.”
I hoped that no one would hear what I said to the girl, but obviously grandfather did. He sat right across from me at the table and watched me closely. Diving into his memories, he shook his head:
“Once I was exactly like you, young man, - he started, - Even in times where each member of my family had only one slice of bread a day, I was convinced that the biggest slice was always for me… Those were hungry times in the beginning of the war…
We lived in a diaspora in a city, on the border of a Jewish quarter… And then the persecution of the Jews started… Pogroms, nightmares. They would come suddenly in the night, first break and crush everything in the house and then kill the people themselves. Everyone was living in constant fear.
Everything inside me opposed that fear: “I’m not going to just sit here, waiting to be killed. I’m smarter than that! I’m going to help myself!” - with those thoughts I ran towards the Synagogue to hide there… only to see it bombed and crushed to the ground in front of my eyes… I kept running without a sense of direction, buildings exploding on each side…
Finally, when the bombing ceased, I found myself injured, laying on a bench of a Christian church. An old priest was taking care of my wounds. He told me that it was God Almighty who preserved my life miraculously. At that moment it didn’t make much sense to me and I didn’t care to understand. I spent a few days in his home to recover and hasted to join the army of opposition.
I became an audacious soldier and was accepted in a special squadron, which fought the hottest and most dangerous battles of the war. I was recklessly running into every battle and somehow managed to survive all of them. I really got a lucky lot in life…
Then I returned to the city I grew up in. The troops were already sent out from there. The war was almost over. Walking through the empty streets of the city late evening, I stopped by a bar. I imagined how in just a few days it will open again and I will sit there with a glass of bear and share my amazing stories…
And at that very moment a raid struck, and the building crumbled to the ground all around me. In a few minutes I opened my eyes and found myself firmly stuck under an enormous block of a wall… I could breathe and even move my arms, but I couldn’t get out of there.
“Couldn’t you cry for help grandpa?” - came to interrupt him the smallest of his grandchildren.
“Of cause I did, - he answered and put the kid on his lap, - many times, but no one came to rescue me. And I waited long… Desperate, I tried to pull my legs out of there with all my force… so strong, that I hurt my hip. I reached as far as I could with my hands, trying to find anything useful and the only thing I found was a piece of a broken mirror from the bar…”
“What a terrible fate” – I commented.
“But grandpa, you are here now! How could you get out finally?” – questioned the boy.
“I looked into that piece of a mirror and saw my face. I saw a miserable man, angry at the whole world… and now stuck in his pride. I wasn’t ready to die in that condition. At that moment I remembered the words of the priest and prayed to God Almighty. I gave my life over to Him and decided to serve Him, no matter how much more I had to live…
And all of a sudden, a miracle happened: that big block of a wall that I was stuck under, started to crack and literally broke into thousand little pieces, so that I could get up and go from there. I knew God did it! My life was preserved again, only this time I was limping.”
“Grandpa, I know! You’re talking about Jacob! We’ve studied this very chapter of Genesis last week at school. In verse thirty one it says that Jacob was limping after fighting with the Angel by the brook. And that after that fight Jacob became Israel!”
The grandfather continued: “God never breaks His promises. See, fear of missing out on something advantageous in life put Jacob on the run. He considered life as some sort of a competition and was afraid to lose or even appear inferior to his own self-image. His life was locked on himself and his own interests, until God brought him through into a different kind of life, much bigger one… But you’re right, - he kissed the little boy on the forehead ,- our experiences are quite similar: Looking into that mirror, I met myself for the very first time, committed my life into God’s hands and was transformed into a new man.”
“It was a very long story” - I commented with a yawn.
“Maybe it doesn’t make much sense to you now, young man, - the grandfather spoke directly to me, but every great life requires a splitting of some sort of a shell and breaking through into life. We all need deliverance from ourselves.”
“I’m skeptical about all this. To me it’s just polemics” - I responded.
It was getting late. I asked the girl: “Do you know a good place around here to meet for breakfast?”
She smiled again: “Yes, there is a beautiful little café called “By the brook”. It’s on the other side of that mountain, I love to walk there.
The grandfather overheard our conversation and spoke to me again:
“If you plan to be over here tomorrow, I can offer you a couch to sleep tonight. That winding narrow road is very dangerous in the dark… and stones might suddenly fall on your car…”
“Thanks for an offer, but I prefer to drive.” - I assured him.
The grandfather closed the conversation: “Whatever happens, the question is the same for everyone: ‘Where will you turn?’”
Upon those words I turned to the girl: “See you tomorrow by the brook.”
“See you in the morning, - she replied, - hope you’ll make it safe!”
I started driving back, making plans for tomorrow, my thoughts moved in a slow-motion: we’ll meet for breakfast, then sit by the brook, then… next thing I heard was a big stone that hit my car from the right side. I turned my head and saw that that first stone triggered the rockfall coming my way… In attempts to escape it, I turned the wheel abruptly to the left and… my car flew down into a hole, knocking against the rocks.
When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself at the bottom of a deep and narrow hole, stones everywhere… Wait! Where is my car? I looked up and saw it stuck between the rocks right above my head. I realized that right before hitting the bottom, the car hit the walls of the hole on both sides, it made a door open and I got ejected from it.
“That would make an impressive escape episode for a movie” -
I concluded and looked around to see where it will lead. But all I saw from every side were stones - different sizes and shapes, but only stones. The sand continued to pour down from the rocks on both sides and I understood that if I will wait here longer, my new car will fall on me and crush me to pieces!
“This cannot be the end! There must be an exit somewhere! Go find me that exit now! –
I ordered as a producer my imaginary team. But nothing around me moved, except for the sand, which continued to penetrate from the cracks all around me. “I guess no one is available, - I concluded and went on my knees to seek for an exit… and to my surprise I saw a little light behind the stones. “Wow…This is history making! I am a genius! This is that secret tunnel that leads to an ancient Portal! This is my exit!” – I announced to myself and started to move the stones away. I had to hurry, because the collapse could happen any minute from now.
As I started to make small steps in that narrow tunnel, I’ve heard an mighty boom behind me. “Here goes my new car” – I thought out loud and turned around… but the avalanche created a stone wall right behind me. “Ok, I got the message, it’s a one-way tunnel now.” - I spoke to myself and continued to move towards the light.
Yet the biggest surprise was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel. Right in the middle stood a giant stone statue of a man… so big, that it took all the space, and no one could pass through the Portal.
“Who could be such a fool to put his stature in this place?!?” - I thought and went closer to look… and recognized myself! It was really me and no one else – my face, my body, the way
I stand, even my clothing… how come? I sat down to admire the statue but heard the sand behind me that continued to penetrate through the cracks. I had only couple of minutes… maybe even less. “No time for admiration, I need to get out of here before it might be too late. I need to get this ‘fellow’ out of the way fast!” - I decided and went into one on one fight with him.
“You are an insolent intruder! – I shouted at the giant. - I don’t allow you to stand here! You are fired!!” But the statue didn’t respond. I tried to insult him: “You are expired! You must get out of my way! I commend you to clear the passage immediately!!!” But the statue didn’t move to my commands. I started to throw stones in his face, but he didn’t seem to care. “This is a hard one to crack”, - I said and looked around… no chisel, no hammer. What can I possibly do with my bare hands? If I would have some explosive…
“Where will you turn?” – the words of the grandfather resounded in my head.
Behind me the sand avalanche was about to swallow me, rocks all around and my only exit was blocked by this stupid statue. I had nowhere to turn, unless… “Oh God! Deliver me from myself! - I cried, - Please take over, I don’t know the way out of here, but I want to follow You into a real life!”
That prayer happened to contain an explosive power… Within seconds my stature cracked and broke into thousand small pieces!
I stepped over that hip of stones into a beautiful valley, filled with flowers and saw my friend on the other side of a little brook. It wasn’t deep at all, even a child could cross it… She waved at me and smiled. I called out to her:
“Here I come… onto the other side!”
I never been so happy before… and I knew that God did it.
Crossroads
Letter Tsadi
Awakening
Letter Kuf
I never asked my parents for a brother or a sister. I was happy to be their only child. Even though I wasn’t pretty, nor smart, neither did I have any particular talent, I could still feel loved every day. And especially I loved those moments, when my mom would take me on her lap and dive into her memories. “When you were born, - She would recall, - I saw a big rainbow above your head and heard the voice saying: “I have set apart this child for Myself and I’m jealous for My purpose in His life”.
On my forth birthday, she made me sit on her lap again and I expected her to share something so pleasant… but instead she announced: ”Sweet heart, you gonna have a little brother soon”.
In the beginning everything was ok, except for one thing. My little brother had beautiful thick curls and was constantly receiving complements . With a few thin hair on my head, I was surely looking so ugly next to him! Who would not compare? Our difference was so obvious!
And as we grew, that difference between us also grew. We were living on two opposite poles. I was struggling with every school assignment and my brother managed everything with such an ease! We would go together to a shooting range and he would hit the target every single time! Not me though… He was accepted in every group and often praised by others. He had a reputation of a prankster, but combined with his remarkable communication skills, was loved by everyone. Standing with a straight posture, he always got people’s attention and everyone loved to listen to him. I was so small and insignificant on his background that no-one even cared to notice me. And when someone would finally talk to me, I had such a hard time to put words together… It was impossible not to notice all those details! In my own eyes I was a petty pedant, working overtime trying to solve this huge difficult question called life.
On top of all that, my brother was cool and not even bothered by conflicts, while I could be inflamed so easily. One particular day I came to the kitchen: My brother was telling jokes to mom and dad. Laughing so hard, they didn’t noticed when I came in. In desperation I exclaimed: “What is wrong here? Why my brother got all the blessings and I got none?!!! I grabbed a ball from the kitchen table, turned it upside down and lifted in the air . Why can’t I contain the blessings? Everything falls away from me! What am I? Curved the wrong way??” My parents looked helpless. They already knew that no words of comfort would make a difference and simply waited in silence.
I couldn’t understand why a person like my brother had to invade my world and to destroy the perfect happy life I lived the first four years of my life... Growing within same family made our lives so interwoven in each other. That’s why I couldn’t just walk away from that torture, I had to play my role of the unfortunate brother. My whole energy was spent in a war for survival.
In situations like that my mom was usually the first one to speak up. Plus that night was her special night. “I’m so glad you‘re going to my concert! - and those words moved all of us into the next frame of the movie, - We all need to hurry up though, I have to be there early.” In a second she put her commander suit and ordered me: “Go quickly take a shower and put a different shirt, this one is so wrinkled!”
That evening was so delightful to me. To hear my mom play was a highlight of my life. Music was so southing and comforting for my wounded soul. The big reception followed the concert and of course, they made me sit next to my brother. I looked around and saw many familiar faces. At that moment, my brother leaned towards me and said: “Curved the wrong way - that’s exactly who you are.”
I froze on the spot and couldn’t utter a word. He annoyed me before, but this seemed to be the last drop. Looking lifeless from the outside, I had a lot of action taking place on the inside. it was a serious intense battle, my whole being was in flames. it was more than anger, I felt revolt rising on the inside of me against all that injustice. My thoughts bombarded me like missiles: “What brought this evil upon me? Who would alleviate this heavy burden I carry? Why would God curse me by making me like this???” I have to do something to offset the accounts! I shall kill him one day!”
This last statement in my mind put an end to my revolt, my fever cooled down and a new order was established. Like a new emperor would make his entrance into the conquered city, riding on a horse, and all the inhabitants would bow down to him in fear, I felt my whole being capitulating before an unmerciful tormenting force called envy. That powerful ruler risen to the throne of my life.
I got up from the table and started to walk away, my fists clenched in my pockets. But my legs became so heavy, I could barley move them. No-one noticed me leaving, but now I didn’t care.
I went on familiar streets towards the cinema and saw a big crowd of people before the entrance. “I’m gonna have a celebration of my own”- I suddenly decided and turned in to join them. I emptied my pockets and realized that all I have would be just enough for a ticket. “Just one please, - I said, finally reaching the cashier. I pulled out my weekly allowance from the pockets and wondered out loud - You never had such a crowd here before, what is so special?”
“You are lucky to come,- she answered, winking at me, - we have a very special presentation tonight: A Magician with his monkey assistant.”
“Why would that be special? I’ve seen magicians many times, they usually do their show in circus.”
“But this one projects thoughts of people in the audience on a big screen! You’ll enjoy that... next in line!” And I was carried into the entrance by the impatient crowd.
Inside the auditorium the air was charged with expectations. Suddenly everything darkened and in the bright beam of light, you could see the magician with his monkey. A big ovation followed their appearance. Pointing at the big screen behind him, he declared: “Tonight this will be a magic screen. It will show the deep secret thoughts of people in this audience. They will be projected directly from your mind into it. You will surely be able to recognize your own thoughts. And here comes the best part: After every segment my assistant will find a person, whose thoughts were played on the screen.” His introduction created an absolute silence in the audience, but before anyone was able to ask anything, the screen already lighten up and the movie began to play.
A young man stood in the middle of a forest; he was looking away and you couldn’t see his face. He was starring at a big axe, laying on the chunk of a tree, probably left by a woodcutter... In the next frame same man was standing in a butcher’s shop, looking at knives. They were all different shapes and he held each of them in his hand. Then the light slowly faded and I saw this fellow in a dark gloomy environment, approaching a slightly lit desk. With a fast move, he grabbed the gun, laying on top of it and put it in his pocket. Then he slowly opened the draw and looked at the bullets... You could sense the struggle in his mind. Then one quick shot put an end to the struggle. In the next frame that young man was standing next to the grave at the funeral, looking away again... Then suddenly I saw a very bright light coming straight into my face from the screen and heard the voice as a voice of a prosecutor in Court, saying:“It’s him!” And the segment was over.
“What a nightmare, - I thought, and immediately noticed the magician’s monkey-assistant walking directly towards me! I knew - now I got the attention of everyone in the whole auditorium. My external shell was suddenly peeled off of me. it was terrifying! I was so terribly exposed! Such a shame! My face all shriveled in ugly grimace. “They were my thoughts!! How could they know? Why am I presented as a murderer? Me?? The magician should have mixed the cards! I must get out of this vicious circle!”
I had to hide from that shame! The next moment I was already on the run.
As soon as I noticed a little black hole in front of me, I dived into it, without a second thought. It was a weird place, from where I stood, a flow was spewing forth its disgusting stinky waters down the stars. Was it a sewage? I tried not to think about it. To my surprise I saw that monkey right behind me: “It followed me till here! I had to continue moving!” - I decided, and run down the stairs... But he moment my feet reached the bottom, everything suddenly faded, - like in the movie. The monkey, the magician, the crowd of people and the terrifying fear of exposure, the voice of the prosecutor... all of it was already behind me. I didn’t need to move anywhere, I was carried by another force.
I found myself sitting on the coach of a fast moving train, having no idea where it’s headed. Outside was getting dark so quickly, it even felt like the train was moving into the thicker darkness… “I guess now I can finally get some rest, - I thought and tried to sit back and just to “enjoy the ride”, but couldn’t relax. How strange… Am I in a dream? To find an answer, I got up to explore the train. All wagons looked the same: dark, gloomy , walls covered with web. At first I couldn’t see the people… Where are they? Am I the only passenger here? - I wondered and heard a dull voice behind me: Ah! Another victim! I looked at the direction of the voice and realized what happened: It took a while for my eyes to adjust to this dark environment… and then I saw them, the people - next to the walls, everywhere…behind the web. They looked like shadows, with no sign of life on their faces. I slowly looked around: At the corner stood a table with a few empty pots and a kettle. “I guess the party is over”, - I concluded and at that moment noticed another fellow, sleeping on the floor in his vomit. I felt sick to my my stomach and decided to go quickly back to my place… But even the idea of having something of my own in this filthy place was disgusting. “I don’t belong here!” - I kept saying to myself, until I got back to my wagon and sat on my coach. “It’s a conspiracy!” - terrified, I closed my eyes not to see the end of it… and fell asleep.
The next scene I saw was a clean looking gentleman standing next to me. He was wearing a beautiful velvety jacket.
“Did I wake you up?” - He started a conversation. I wanted to know if I’m still in a dream and pinched myself.
“It’s real, - the stranger answered my thoughts and introduced himself - I’m a train attendant. Do you need help with anything?”
“Well… Yea!!! - I woke up at once - I need answers to so many questions!” “Ok, sure, - He slowly took off his magnificent jacket, hanged it on the hook and sat down on the coach in front of me, ready to listen. With his simple shirt, he didn’t look like a stranger anymore.
I started shooting my questions at him: “Can you explain to me what’s going on? This place is disgusting…Why am I here? Who are those people I saw? What is this train all about? Where its engine located?” - I made a quick stop to check if he was overwhelmed, like me, but saw a calm expression on his face. He was listening attentively.
“I see you’ve got many more questions, young man. And yes, I do have an answer to all of them, but only if you are willing to listen.” - was his response. I agreed, feeling accepted just the way I am.
He, on the contrary, started slowly: “This train is as real as your physical life. You just happen to discover it, because you went to the level below the surface of things. You are here because this is the reality you created for yourself in your mind. The thoughts, nesting within you, will always manifest - one way or the other. You’ve asked about the engine… It’s located within the heart of every passenger…like you”
“Me?!? I don’t belong here! I didn’t do anything wrong! - I protested, - I just happened to be a victim of some really bad set of circumstances.”
“No, - He responded firmly, - no-one here is a victim of circumstances. This train runs on human jealousy and every passenger bought into its deceptive reality at some point.”
I remembered buying the ticket to the magician’s show, but interrupted the flow of my own thoughts: “No, it can’t be that! Someone else is shuffling the cards over here… I was right, it’s a conspiracy.” I closed up in my conclusions and looked away, but the train attendant continued: “Let me show you the itinerary… hold on a minute…” He reached to His jacket, hanging on the wall, took out the old map and opened it on the table in front of me. I couldn’t understand the writings, to me they looked like some secret codes. He glanced at me, checking if I was ready for the explanation, then placed his finger at the corner of the map and started:
It begins right here, - at the point of Crushed Expectations, then passes through its suburbs: Little Quarrel, Annoying, Damaged Relationships… until it arrives the town of Abuse. There, what looked before as an insignificant scribbling, is typed now as an official document. It is a statement called “Deprivation of Rights”. After that it passes through the shaky area of Confusion, where the temperature changes at the speed of light: one minute - it’s a frozen state, it gets so cold that the blood congeals and the next minute it’s wroth and fervor. It lasts for some time until it passes over the Hill of Revolt; right on top there is a village called the Offset . The train stops there for a short time, so that everyone who wants to have a discussion with an accountant, may do so. Shortly after that, every passenger needs to show his ticket, cause the train enters the Domain of Envy. The very first town in that domain is a place now called “A Red Line”, but its original name was: ”Hardened Heart”. From that point the tracks continue strait downhill, with just a few small villages on the way: Tedious Living, Gloominess, Accusations, some other… not much is happening. The passengers are getting used to the sound, smell and the whole atmosphere of the train. In fact, they absorb its reality to the degree, where it becomes impossible to separate themselves from it; it becomes a part of who they are. For this reason, they feel bound by those ties, when in reality it’s only the web… It continues like this for quite a while, until it reaches a Tunnel of Extremism, which is drilled through very hard rocks by a company called “Fanatic Zeal.” And on the other side of that tunnel… - He looked at me again and I couldn’t understand why did he stopped at this point. “Tell me! What’s on the other side? I have to know! - I demanded impatiently. Looking straight into my eyes, he answered: “This train is headed into the City of Cain”.
I couldn’t decide what to answer, my mind became a battlefield. On one hand, he cannot speak for every passenger… everyone has a different life story. But on the other hand, I couldn’t deny the reflections of this map in my own life.
“Who is this Cain?” - I finally inquired, trying to appear indifferent. “As a passenger, you need to know this, - he agreed and folded his map, - the story goes back to the ancient times. Cain had a younger brother by the name Abel. They grew up in the same family, but were very different from each other. Abel kept flocks and Cain worked the soil. One day both brothers brought an offering unto the Lord. Abel sacrificed the firstborn of his flock and Cain picked up some fruits from his field. The incense was still burning on the alter, as Cain noticed that the Lord looked with favor on Abel’s offering, but not on his. This provoked him to envy, which he was ashamed to show. But the Lord looks upon the heart and knows exactly what’s going on. He reached out to Cain, asking: “Why are you angry? Why is your countenance sad and downcast?” Of course, He knew, but He was ready to help Cain to recognize and avoid the approaching danger, before it would be too late. God told Cain everything he needed to know in oder to make the right choice, but instead he chose to jump into the train of jealousy, which carried him all the way into murder.”
“Murder?!? - I exclaimed, - How is that connected?”
“One flows directly into the other, - he continued with the patience of a teacher, - The flames of human jealousy demand a sacrifice to be made. Cain hoped that getting rid of his brother would compensate for his own hurt, but the result was polar different from that. Cain got cut off from the land of the living by a curse and lived with the mark of disgrace for the rest of his life.”
“But the human race made some progress since the ancient times, - I suggested.
“The opposite happened, - he responded, - Human progress brought it to the extreme. These days fanatics are everywhere. - and added most seriously - This same story plays out in every generation. You see, jealousy is destructive and fatal. No human sacrifice can quench its flames. You can’t freeze it, can’t vault it, can’t undermine it from its place, you cannot impose a penalty on it; once allowed to take over, it literally runs your entire life. It sets the rhythm and everything else has to adjust to it. Everything inside you have to give in to its cruel rule. Jealousy becomes the only thing that matters, your major drive, your only reality. Running wild, it’s eager to cut off everything that stands on its way. What you saw here to this point is only the top of the iceberg. It’s going to get much worse.”
“It sounds scary… But you, you’re not a part of all this? Are you?”
He paused with an answer. Then again, looking directly into my eyes, answered: “I couldn’t leave you alone. I came here for you”.
His words filled my heart with hope: “Then I want to get out of here! There should be a way out,“ - and I looked out the window, but couldn’t see anything, except thorns everywhere. - What is out there? “
“It’s a suspension between two worlds, - he started to explain, - a space and a time, before the decision is made by the passenger… There is another world that you cannot see at this point. It’s the world God created, in which He is the King. And He is jealous for His creation, but it is a different kind of jealousy. It’s pure, holy, liberating… polar different. It’s the passion of life that originates within the heart of the Creator Himself and happy are those who happen to catch that train! …I hope it helped you, - he said and got up to leave.
“Where is my answer? I demanded, blocking his way, - you said you’ve got all of them!”
“Right there, in your pockets,” - he responded seriously.
I was shocked by his response and kept starring at him. He stretched out his hand and said: “ The gun and bullets. Give them to me.”
I opened my mouth to protest and justify myself, but surprisingly realized that a real gun was indeed in my pocket! “I never put it there! Someone else did! It all started at the movie theater!” - my mind started to shoot in every direction.
“This is the reality you’ve created for yourself, - he answered, - remember I told you that the thoughts, nesting within you, create a reality? Here it is. Are you ready to give it up?”
I slowly opened my hand. He reached towards me, took a pistol and counted the bullets. I was so terribly exposed again, but this time without fear. I simply stood in front of him, stripped of my pride, begging for mercy.
Unexpectedly, he grabbed his jacket from the hook and put it on me with the words: “You better be covered. It’s chilly out there.” At that moment the doors opened and fresh mighty wind carried me away from that terrible train, further and further away.” It felt like waking up from a dream. As I opened my eyes, I saw a big rainbow right above my head and heard the voice within my own heart: “I’ve set apart this child for Myself and I’m jealous for My purpose in his life”.
Looking in the Mirror
Letter Resh
As I was growing up, our family was very poor, but it wasn’t always the case. Mom was a descendant of a very rich religious family. Her father owned a lot of property and rented it with interest. His revenue was enough to provide for the whole family in abundance. Their level of living was pretty high for those times. Their house was filled with a very expensive furniture, made exclusively for them... But times changed and another authority, which came to power had my grandfather assassinated right in his own home. When it happened, my grandmother stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, holding my mom in her arms, pleading God for mercy... and somehow the murderer left without entering the bedroom. Their lives were miraculously spared.
My grandmother and my mom were evacuated far away from that house in order to survive that political earthquake and when they returned after many years, they found their house empty. All the furniture was gone, except for that old mirror in the bedroom. Coming very close to it, my grandmother touched the mirror as it were a real person and began to weep, saying: “my life, my life!” Her tears run down its surface and turned into stains, uneatable till this day. The last words of my grandmother: “Please take care of this mirror” seemed to mark my mom’s life; she was never the same since, she lived all her life with a feeling of soon approaching calamity. Now she got seriously sick; both me and my dad watched her becoming weaker every day.
Big old mirror settled now in the living room of our apartment, its height being from the floor to the ceiling. Every time my parents argued with each other, I would hide and secretly watched their fights reflected in that mirror. My father worked two jobs to make a living, but in spite of his hard working, we barely had enough to survive. He would come home exhausted and look at the mirror.
“Darling, - he would start, - if we would sell this mirror...” It was a usual scene, I already knew what’s coming next. With very few variations, it played almost exactly the same every time.
“No! Not this mirror! - my mom would protest with a very strong emotion, - You don’t understand! You trample on my feelings! When I look into this mirror, I see my mother in her glorious life, surrounded by all that beauty and splendor! And I can see myself in that picture. If you take this mirror, you’ll strip me of my identity; I cannot live without it!!”
My dad would come closer and hold her in his arms. In attempts to appease the storm, he would bring few other arguments: “But you stopped eating... look how skinny you became! You don’t want to die from starving... you’re so feeble now. We can sell this mirror and pay the physician.”
But mom refused to calm down, her picture of the world was permanently fixed. “You can break me in pieces, but not this mirror!” - she would exclaim. And we would never move away from that conclusion. I knew that little amount of food they got, they would give me, so I was growing up with anger and guilt. This mirror represented to me my mom’s suffering, as she was trying to hold onto something which didn’t exist. For some strange reason, she was so possessive about that old mirror, that would not let go of it at any price. Her struggle lasted many years... until she died.
One day I came home and saw my father in the empty apartment. “I have a surprise for you son”- he said with enthusiasm, - we live in a different quarter now. I already have all our stuff moved. It would be much healthier for both of us to move away from this gloomy environment and to get used to a different picture of the world. I was eager to see a different picture, but as we arrived to our new dwelling, the first thing I saw was that big old mirror.
“Why did you bring the mirror?!” - I was shocked, to say the least.
My dad hugged me and said: “It’s memory... mom asked me to take care of it.” He left for work and I stood alone in our new home. I just got eighteen, my life was in front of me... I looked in the mirror: That guilty angry boy I was few years ago, was starring at me, waiting for an answer... and I didn’t have it for him. My thoughts and feelings were raging inside me. Suddenly I felt a fresh breathe blowing through my mind: “Maybe mirror isn’t that important? Maybe other people have a solution for me? This can’t be the only thing to see, - I decided and went outside to explore the neighborhood.
Outside was cold and dump, so I entered the first opened door, which happened to be a welder shop. A welder was working somewhere in the back and didn’t see me entering. I slowly looked around the shop. But strangely, all I saw there were cracked mirrors, all different shapes and forms. I wondered through his shop and suddenly heard his voice next to me: “Hello young man, do you have a mirror for me to fix?”
I kept looking at mirrors around. “No, not really, - I started slowly, not wanting to engage in a conversation. But wait a second…- A contradiction interrupted the flow of my thoughts - once a mirror is broken, it can’t be fixed, only replaced. Then how can you fix mirrors?” Now I turned to the welder and looked straight into his eyes: “Can you tell me how do you fix those cracked mirrors?”
To my surprise, he looked so innocent and ready to answer: “I assemble the pieces and weld them together, then put layers of some special transparent covering upon it. With the years, I mastered my skill really well. I can do such a fine job, that you will not even see the cracks. It appears as if nothing ever happened to it. Nowadays cracked mirror is no longer a tragedy. People simply adjust their eyes to see the same reality in a different way, that’s all.”
I couldn’t understand: “Do you mean it’s OK to use a mirror after it has been broken?!”
“Absolutely!!”- he answered with confidence. I still wasn’t convinced and continued: “Do you use a cracked mirror yourself?”
“No, not exactly, - the tone of his voice changed a bit, - I have my own mirror, but I rarely look at it... only when no one sees me. I keep it only to myself, protected - he pointed at the heap of draping materials and soft cushions, - right over there. The more you look at it, the faster it will worn out and crack, it usually cracks at the exposure to the light... I’m OK not to look at it, but simply knowing I’ve got mine and I keep it private.”
At that moment he lifted his head high and proclaimed: “My customers pay me to do the job and I honestly conduct my business.”
“I choose a mirror without cracks”- I concluded and turned to leave.
“Your choices might change as you grow. I’ll be here at your service! - he shouted as I was walking away.
In front of me was a little busy street with many shops, people going in and out nonstop. Towards the end of the street I saw a peddler. He spread out something shiny on a little table and few people were buying from him. Is it jewelry? I was curious and started walking towards him. His customers left and I saw such a content expression on his face, he obviously got some good sales going. He greeted me with the words: “Welcome into the world of Art! Everything you wish to see, is here for you!”
I looked closer at his little table. There were many pieces of broken mirrors, different shapes, about a size of human hand. They all had different colors and a cute metal frame on the edges.
“You sell to people broken mirrors! It’s cheating!” - I was in shock by what I saw.
“I would disagree with you young man. The reality we live in is scary for many people, they need to see something different. I respond to this need and my business is blossoming”- replied the peddler, keeping the smile. - Everywhere I go, I find the pieces of broken mirrors that people throw away. I clean them and put a bright filter on its surface. Then once the welder adds metallic frame over its edges, it appears as if it was meant to be this shape. It attracts a lot of customers. Hey! I’m living on it! - His smile got even bigger. - It really helps to see your situation in a different light. Rarely people like only one color. They usually purchase a few different pieces, like these people that just left. Of course! It provides them with a feeling of a change and a found solution to the present trouble. Would you like to have a look at my new collection?”
“No, thanks. I’m not impressed” - I concluded and turned to leave.
“It’s called the art of life! - he shouted behind my back, - you will learn it as you grow!”
I kept walking away, with his last words resonating in my head: “The art of life... I guess I never learned it. Do I need to learn it? Do I have to learn it? Can I live without it?”
My thoughts seemed to wonder in some empty space. To find an answer, I entered through another open door. This time I walked into a bar. The exultation in the atmosphere was electrifying. Very loud music, lots of lights. Mirrors on the walls and the ceiling reflected all those lights and literally multiplied the celebration. The barman spotted me entering and called out: ”Come on in buddy, don’t stand so far! No-one is a stranger in my place!”
I went closer to the bar stand. He was a young fellow, not much older than myself. For a moment he has put a serious face and asked: “Are you eighteen years of age?” I nodded my head and noticed that a big shiny glass was already standing in front of me. The barman put the glass into my hand with the words: “Drink buddy! On the house."
I hesitated, but he persisted: “Come on! Loosen up! Get the bridle out of your mouth and drink to the full! You don’t wanna miss all the fun!” I finished the full glass at once and looked at the dancing crowd. The barman was right there again. “See that girl over there? - he asked me, pointing at a beautiful girl that was literally flattering on the dance floor in the sparkling light. She broke with her boyfriend yesterday... Got the hint? Come on, start moving.”
I didn’t have time to think. As he spoke, that girl was already next to me, holding my hand.
“Do you dance?”- she asked, smiling at me. I was not sure of myself. “Come on, I’ll teach you”, - she said and pulled me right in the center of the bar.. “Now everybody is dancing a mirror dance. - she announced to me, - Simply follow my moves”. She got really close and whispered in my ear: “Nowadays you don’t really have time to get to know the other person. You just see how well he can mirror you and you naturally get attracted to your own reflection! Love is a mirror, in order to feel it, all you need is to mirror the other.”
I felt lost and stopped moving. “Where is me in this picture? - I wondered out loud.
She didn’t expect me to be that serious. “Look, I don’t know you, - she responded, - all I see is that you cannot connect with others since you don’t agree to mirror! If you cannot connect, you cannot love! - and she went on dancing, leaving me at the bar stand.
The bar tender was right there again: “Recoil? It happens. This one is surely not the easiest to start with... come on, have another drink!” As I emptied my second glass he exclaimed “Welcome to the mirror civilization!” My face turned into a big question mark. The bar tender tapped me on a shoulder: “Let me give you a little lesson here, - he started with a voice of a teacher, - mirror is a way to coop with life, it’s a way to be in tune with the world around you and to genuinely connect with others. Don’t be trapped in your own world view! Learn! Start to show off and admire others. Because the appearance is the most profitable among all other goods in today’s world. If It appears so, it is so! That’s the way everybody lives. It’s not hard to get used to, you’ll see. If you desire to be somebody, all you have to do is to get as many mirrors as you can afford and appear to be big and influential. You can appear so cool and amazing in those multiple reflections... It won’t be a simple flat image anymore, but in 3d! And you can keep adding mirrors... hey! It’s unlimited potential. - He bent over and whispered to my ear - See that guy over there at the corner? He is very evil. By the hands of others he killed innocent people. Can you say this, simply looking at him?”
“No...”- I turned my head from left to the right.
He continued: “I’ll tell you a secret, it’s not just gossip. He purchased so many mirrors to appear the way he does, so everyone likes him. Everyone sees his own reflection in his multiple mirrors. I’m your mirror, you’re my mirror - got the hint? That’s wisdom. Those who got the most reflections are considered to be the high society. The level of life depends on how many people can see you in their picture of the world. Without a mirror - you’re nobody!” The barman’s attention switched to someone else and I finally went out of there into the cold darkness of the night. “Out of that weird mirror civilization!” - I decided and looked up. But even the sky looked flat like a mirror, reflecting back to me my ugly world. This happened to be the last drop. “I hate mirrors!” - I shouted in desperation. Having quickly picked up few stones from the ground, I run towards home.
I stood in front of our old mirror, enraged, ready to execute the convicted one and punish the wickedness. “It all started with you! - I declared, - You are evil and deserve to be stoned!” With this words I threw my stones into the mirror. It broke, but the pieces were still big. “I have to finish the job, - I decided and went to jump and dance upon the mirror pieces, smashing them smaller and smaller. - No welder will fix you, no peddler would use your pieces! No one will see anything in you ever again!! You are done!” I was treading the pieces of the shattered mirror under my feet... until few small chips flew straight into my eyes and I fell unconscious on the heap of broken glass.
A loud noise woke me up: many people taking in the same time, shouting, groaning… doors open and close all the time, some heavy stuff rolling on the floor… I couldn’t see anything, so I made an effort to orient myself by the senses. I was laying in a metal bed. It sounded rather like a busy train station, but smelled like hospital. As I was trying to figure it out, I’ve heard an angry voice next to me:
“I’m not answering any of your questions! Write whatever name you want, I don’t care!”
“I understand sir, but here in the clinic of The Great Physician we do not do whatever we want, we have to register your true name for the records”, - followed a polite and clear answer.
Suddenly a very strong and firm voice of an older man took over the conversation: “What’s all this agitation about? You are in danger of bleeding to death, you’d better hurry up to get a treatment.”
“Get a treatment?! - picked up the sick one next to me, - Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?! I don’t trust you people!! Who gave you the license to handle my life? The world is free and I can do in it whatever I want! I made up my mind!”
“That’s right, sir. The choice is totally yours”, - and his bed started rolling away. “It will be my turn now, - I thought and heard a female voice yelling:
“What do you mean you can’t give me any information at this point?! You have no idea who are you talking to! I will not tolerate these conditions! I have to know what will happen to my property and need to talk to my adviser immediately! I will fight for my rights!”
The same voice answered her: “There is no-one here to fight with you ma’m. We are here to help people. Your greatest right is your freedom of choice. You can give your consent and be treated or disagree and walk out of here, but The Great Physician only practices in this clinic. Keep in mind, you have to choose fast, since the emergency entrance must be cleared.”
The tone of her voice changed, as she responded sarcastically: “No, thanks. I want special attention. Plus I can afford a private doctor, who will treat me in my own home, under my terms!!” - and her bed got rolling towards those heavy doors.
I tried to move my legs, but they didn’t obey me. “Well… looks like I don’t even have an option to walk out of here, I would have to crouch…” - I started to shiver from that thought. My mind was made. “Do you want to stay here or leave? Decide quickly, we need to keep the emergency entrance clear!” - They kept walking from one person to another with the same words. Waiting for my turn, I concluded: “So many people must have arrived here before me.” Upon this thought I put all my effort and turned to the other side.
As I turned, I felt a gentle touch on my forehead, like the warmth of my mom’s hand. My bed started rolling and I’ve heard a woman’s voice next to me:
“My name is Mercy, I’m the head nurse in this clinic. Let me get you settled over here.” I understood we got into an elevator and started to move up. “I’m taking you to your room, - she explained to me, - it’s on the upper floor. You have an amazing view from there…”
“That wasn’t merciful of her, - I thought, - I can’t see a thing and she is talking to me about an amazing view!”
She seemed to read my thoughts and continued: “Few very small pieces of a toxic image got into your eyes. They damaged the retina and you can’t see anything at this point; they also affected your entire body, mostly legs. It’s not an unusual case. We deal with it a lot.” My bed stopped and she announced: “This is your private room. Miracles happen here, if you need one.”
I was afraid she would leave and stretched my hands to her. “Don’t worry, I’m always here, when you need me; I assist every recovery process,” - Mercy sat down on the edge of my bed and I felt her gentle scent permeating my world.
I was still puzzled about my first impression and asked her: “It surely feels so different from the emergency department… Why such a difference? Why is it so much stress down there?”
“Emergency is a hard place to work, so much is happening all the time. - she explained, - They need to keep the entrance cleared and hurt people arrive non-stop. Some cases are really heavy: some protest, some are aggressive. Those coordinators work so hard, they have to be tough. Their job is to bring sick people to their point of decision, without it they cannot be treated here. Healing is for everyone, but The Great Physician will never force anyone to accept His treatment.”
“I tried to nod my head in agreement, but then another question popped up: “What about that terrible smell there? It was unbearable!”
“Oh, it’s a special mixture they spray all over that area. It’s very strong, especially one particular ingredient. It helps people to wake up from their deceptive lethargic sleep. Once they come back to their senses, they can make a decision. We use the same solution to disinfect the wounds from rotting. Once you get your vision back, you will see the whole picture for yourself.”
“Are you serious? Did you just said I will get my vision back? - My heart was ready to dance inside me, - How long will it take?”
“Whatever time it needs for a new vision to be formed within you - she responded and put her hand upon my eyes. - Now you need a good rest. Tomorrow you’re supposed to start your detoxication treatment.” Upon those words I fell sound asleep.
As I opened my eyes, Mercy was still there. I knew by the scent. “Recovery is a process,- she said, - just calm on the inside and listen.” I’ve heard the rustling of the pages, as of a book, and then her gentle voice:
“The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”
As she stopped, I asked her: “Who did you read about?”
“About you. This is your new picture of the world. This is the medicine prescribed to you by The Great Physician.” - followed her answer.
She kept reading… on and on… obviously she was very serious about her task.
After a few days she asked if I was ready to remove those chips of a broken mirror from my eyes. She guided both of my hands to my eyes and said: “Now, simply grab them and throw them away from you! You won’t need them anymore.” I still couldn’t see, but as I did this, I felt immediate relief. I felt a new strength infused into my body and tried to get up on my feet… but my legs were so shaky that I collapsed on the floor next to the bed. Mercy was right there. She picked me up and placed me back upon my bed, saying:
“You’re supposed to see first, and then walk. The is the order of The Great Physician, you cannot neglect His orders, if you want to be healed and whole. Remember I told you that with the time, if you follow the treatment, a new vision will be formed within you. You need to trust the process, until you will see the result. You should look into this picture as in the mirror… until you see your image.”
Time went by… I don’t know how long. Mercy was by my side, reading to me every time I would be ready to listen:
“He sent His word and healed them…
Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits; Who forgives all your iniquities; who heals all your diseases…
Your eyes will see the king in His beauty and view a land that stretches afar…
I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up…
The hearing ear and the seeing eye - the Lord made them both…
But I will see Your face in righteousness; when I awake, I will be satisfied with Your presence…
Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,' says the LORD Almighty.…”
I started to love those words and experience supernatural strength invigorating my entire body every time I would meditate on what I heard. I enjoyed the new found sense of well-being. Even when I was alone, the scent of Mercy was with me in my room.
One day she sat down to read as usual and all of a sudden a flashing light revived my entire body - from head to toe and I shouted: “I see! I see myself in that picture!” I was shocked and fascinated at the same time. I got up on my feet and started dancing with Mercy around the room.
“It’s amazing what I see, you were right!” - I said and stopped, catching my breath.
“Oh, I’m so pleased to hear this” - she answered with a glowing smile. - Now you can walk on your own and live out the new vision you received.”
To leave? …I hesitated, I didn’t want to go back to my broken life… She read my thoughts and responded:
“You don’t have to go back to the broken life of the past. You have a new picture of the world now, and you look quite different in that picture, don’t you?” ”Right, - I nodded my head, - but I will miss you, Mercy… I will miss those words…”
“You don’t have to miss me, - she grabbed a book, which was laying next to my bed, and passed it to me - You can take the reality you’ve seen here into your new life. Keep healthy, take this medicine every day! These are the words of your Shepherd, they contain the virtue of life itself. You will hear His voice leading you - just follow and I will always be there with you, for this is the world where I belong. You will know by the scent.”
She opened the door in front of me. It looked like a place I never been to before… I looked at Mercy - she was laughing! “Quite a change! - she said, - isn’t it? It’s the street you live in, but since your picture of the world changed, you see differently. You are different. Your new image of yourself is better than the one the world offers you.” You have a thrilling adventure ahead!
I made the first step into my new life and heard the voice behind me, saying “This is the way, walk in it”.
Seat of Justice
Letter Shin
Trilogy
Part One
I was still a young boy when my father got promoted into the office of a chief judge in the regional court. Being his only son, I carried a heavy weight of expectations on my shoulders: expectations to live a noble life. And of course my father was the one to define that noble life for me. “You are very privileged to be born into this exceptional family.” - I heard almost every morning, - You have been assigned an important role to play”. Exactly! It felt like the script was already written and all that was left for me to do is simply to memorize the lines and follow.
Our family lived in a luxury apartment on the sixth floor of a building in the center of town. I could see my school yard, market place and the bar right out of the window; the people were so close, but…
Regularly, usually about the sunset time, my father would call me to sit next to him by the window. I knew exactly what was going to happen. He would look down on the people, shake his head and say to me:
“Look at all those people - drunkards, creeping like reptiles, full of lusts! Their lives are flooded with debris! They constantly trying to repair their broken world, trying to make it better… but it doesn’t work, because of who they are on the inside - detestable slaves! Pay attention, son! You have to guard yourself from that kind of influence. You belong to to a higher class… Therefore you must invest your life in higher matters.” I knew exactly what it meant: to memorize poetry, to listen to the classical music, read sophisticated books etc. “You have been assigned an honorable role in the fabric of history, - he would continue, - and for the sake of your mission in life, you must be different! Be diligent to constantly upgrade and polish your status.”
I didn’t want to play that role, but never dared to contradict my father. The boat which was already launched. I didn’t choose that destination, but actually kept sailing further and further away from the shore, getting used to this routine…
But one day, a little change confronted me with a big challenge.
The spring holidays were almost here… As we sat down to eat, my mom handed me a package. “Go ahead, open it!” - her eyes were streaming with joy and excitement. There were very expensive sunglasses… I carefully put them on. “Look at you! - she exclaim in admiration, - you look even more intelligent with these glasses! I thought of your coming sailing trip: the sun is much brighter there, reflected by the water, you need to protect your eyes!” My father didn’t say a word, but obviously didn’t share the excitement. After a moment of silence, he concluded: “You don’t have to go. You can find other fun things to do. Those guys from the sailing club… What do you have in common with them? And by the way, intelligence has nothing to do with looks, it’s inside. Don’t forget it, son.” The rest of the evening we passed in boring silence. As I laid down to sleep that night, I could still hear the music, coming from the street, I heard laughter and sounds of celebration… I couldn’t find peace within myself. I wished to free myself from all those judgements! Why do I have to always compare myself with others? Why would I need to learn my own value, based on this endless comparison? Would judging others make me some kind of superior being? Those questions in my heart remained unanswered.
Coming to my class after a holiday was another torture. Other kids were all exited, sharing the fun they watched on TV… I would never be allowed to participate in that, in my home TV shows were forbidden as a “low class entertainment”. I wanted so much to rejoice and laugh with them, but knew that I don’t belong there…
Unexpectedly an old stranger entered the classroom. He sat down at the teachers’s desk and explained: “You history teacher is sick, I will replace him for three days”. He patiently waited till everyone settled in his place and asked:
“So, where are you in your history studies?”
“Slavery!” - someone shouted from the back.
“No problem, - said the old man, - Lets go for it.” He took a deep breath and started: “There are different kinds of slavery…” But he didn’t even manage to finish his first sentence.
“History is boring! It’s dead!” - protested same voice from the back.
The teacher didn’t seem to be surprised. “I’m a bit unusual history teacher, - he said with a smile, - I only teach history which is alive, I mean, history from the Holy Scriptures. And if you are willing to learn, it can make a great impact on your present and your future. The learning process would include finding the elements of history in your own life.” Strangely, the whole class quieted down in expectation.
“Slavery… What it possibly has to do with my life?” - I thought and looked out the window.
“Don’t be so quick to judge, - said the teacher, as of reading my thoughts. - Let’s look at the life of Moses.
He was born into captivity, in the time, when jewish people were enslaved by the Egyptians. The yoke of the Egyptian rule was very heavy: hard labor, hate and violence were their living conditions. To ensure his dominion, Pharaoh established a system of murder: every newborn Hebrew boy had to be drown in the river! And that was supposed to be Moses’s fate, if not for the faith of his mother. You may want to read the story again - how she laid baby Moses in the basket and launched him into the unknown, then how Egyptian princess found him, favored him and adopted him… And here we see Moses, a Hebrew, who is very different from the rest of his people. He didn’t just survive, he happened to become a part of royal family, a thriving, highly educated man. His life of prosperity was assured, with a high position of authority awaiting him. He was growing up in the royal palace, always satisfied to the full, enjoying abundance of pleasure.
He knew that he was adopted into that environment, but agreed to adopt that environment within himself as well. He could easily brag about his privileges, looks, luck, exceptional opportunities… Yes, everything in his life was pulling him away from his original identity, but one day he made a courageous step and went to see his own people, to actually get in touch with them.
What he found out shook his entire world, confronting him with a choice: to continue in well-established illusion or to be true to his original self. He realized that the world he was a part of was built on deception, hate and murder. All he considered his own, became foreign to him in a moment… But he has grown up, he is no longer laying in a basket of someone else’s faith, simply “enjoying the ride”. He is held responsible for his own choices. He has to act now, this is his moment of truth!”
He paused. The school bell ripped the silence and everyone rushed out of the classroom. I slowly passed by the teacher’s desk and went outside. The rays of a bright sunlight on my face felt like the light of many projectors, pointed straight at me. Like Moses, I had to act in the “now”. I realized that I was a main player, a center and a hero of my life. I am the one to decide and it’s now or never!
“I’m coming out of my father’s world into mine!” I went to bed early and put my head on the pillow. In my mind I was still basking in the rays of the bright sunlight… A flame of inspiration inside my heart was burning away my limitations. My entire world was getting so large - a far extended territory, I couldn’t even see the end of it. “This is the dawn of my real life” - I thought and sank into sleep.
Part Two
Early in the morning my father called me to the kitchen. “I have to give you your assignments for the next three days. I have to accomplish an important mission and need to leave immediately! - he explained. I took a deep breath and answered: “Dad, thank you for your efforts, but I choose to take part of my sailing trip.”
I knew that my answer shocked him, but he didn’t want to show it. He sat down and spoke firmly and slowly: “Son, I perceive that you are being led astray by an influence foreign to our values!”
Then… my response shocked both of us: “I don’t have to share all your values, I can also have my own. I decided to be my own person.”
The following silence created a fast growing gap between us… Mom made an effort to rescue the situation: ”What happened to you?”
“I will find out, - he answered her, still looking at me. - Whoever enticed you to go this deceptive way… Watch out, son! You’re stepping out onto a dangerous territory, out of my protection! - and then added - If you’ll be in trouble, don’t call me.” He took his briefcase and left shortly after.
On my way to school, I felt like a hero. My first victory was already behind me! “I am the ruler of my world!” - I announced to myself and made a triumphant entry into the classroom. No-one seemed to pay attention to the change inside me, maybe only the teacher noticed something: he looked at me and smiled. Then started:
“Good morning everyone, let’s continue with Moses.
As we know from the Scriptures, Moses chose to be true to his original identity. That choice marked the beginning of a new stage in his life, presented to us by another chain of events. He makes his triumphant entry into the world, as a declaration: “I understand where I come from and I will be an honorable link in my people’s history chain! I will stand up for what is right - for freedom and equality!” We can see his heart, burning with high and noble motives.
At the sight of injustice, he perceives his mission in life as a deliverer. Moses is a passionate hero, quick to draw out a sword or whatever weapon he has handy. He perceives himself to be the one, chosen to establish justice in this world. He sees himself as the peace-maker, a mediator… But we also see that others were not convinced of his mission, they don’t perceive him that way - not the Egyptians, not even his own people. They didn’t share his new found perspective. Here Moses starts to discover his inner world: deceived by his own fervor, confronted by his own fears. That discovery led him to quickly leave Egypt, leaving all his ambitions, aspirations and hopes behind. He run away into a desolate place and spent there many years.”
“What a strange story… How come he gave up so quickly?” - I thought, but didn’t have time to find an answer. The school bell rang. “We will continue tomorrow,” - said the teacher, but I was already on my way out; I had to hurry to the sailing club.
I only recently joined the team and was so exited about my first overnight trip! Another guy from my class joined in the same time as me; not that I would be his friend, but at least I wasn’t the only one to be a “first-time sailor”.
We both arrived at the same time to the harbor. Our captain was sitting on the peer in front of the boat.
“Ok, listen fellows, - he said, opening a bottle of Whisky, - everyone has a role. He pointed at me: “Your job would be to observe and to announce the approaching danger. Make sure you keep the whole watch until the dawn, but in couple of hours we’ll get into the big waters.”
Then he slowly scanned the other guy, from head to toe, and concluded: “You’re fat! In case of a storm we will have to throw you overboard as an extra weight… Don’t worry, it was a joke. We will find a job for you, for sure. Stay on the deck and wait for my orders.”
As we stepped into the boat, he called out: “Hey! Are you lost? Over here! We can’t leave without it!” I turned my head and saw about thirty boxes of strong alcohol being delivered to our boat. “Time to go! Take your positions! - followed the command and I went up to my observation point.
The harbor and the town stayed behind, I was sailing into my new life. Fresh evening wind blew into my face a sense of destiny. I took it in with a deep breath. Finally I was in agreement with myself. Finally I found my peace… but not for too long.
Suddenly my attention was drawn by what was happening on the deck. I saw all the guys from the sailing team, as they brought out those boxes of strong drinks with the shouts: “Let’s be merry and have fun!” I could watch this whole scene from my observation point clear like a movie.
“Hey fat one! Come over here! - cried the captain. I got an order for you. Grab a brush and a bucket, go on your knees and start scrubbing the floor right here in the middle.”
I watched this fellow kneeling right in the middle of the party and scrubbing the deck… and felt sorry for him. They drunk more and the the party went wild: “Come quickly! Scrub over here, then over here, then over here! Come on, Hurry up! Your job is to obey the orders.”- They literally pushed him around with his brush and the bucket…
“This is fun!” - shouted the captain, but what I saw was a terrible humiliation. I couldn’t watch it anymore and could’t ignore it either. My only option was to leave my observation point and go down there to stand up for justice.
I stood in their midst and exclaimed: “Why are you doing this? He has rights just like everyone else! It’s not fair!”
The captain got up slowly, rolling up his sleeves: “Who put you here in authority? Are you a judge here on the boat?!”
He came closer and pushed me. I held my balance, getting ready for a fight. Instead he turned around and announced to everyone: “No point to mess up with this one. He is a brain-washed coward.”
At this moment I got everyone’s attention. What will be my answer? I paused for a moment…
Suddenly a loud cry “Danger!” pierced the silence and the scene changed in half second. It was the action time. As drunk as they were, two of them run to the rudder, in attempts to steer away from the rocks right in front of us… but it was too late. From the first hit the boat tilted and got everyone soaked. But the second hit was a shock that threw everyone on the floor. The fat guy landed right next to me.
“Pump the water quickly, you idiots! Team work!” - yelled one of the sailors. But in spite of our efforts, the water kept flooding the boat; we were obviously sinking.
“It’s all because of you! - shouted the fat guy, pointing at me, - it was your job to announce the danger ahead of time! You have brought upon us this disaster!”
“Prepare to leave the boat immediately!” - resounded the order of the captain.
I watched others grabbing life jackets and jumping overboard. I saw the guys from the sailing team swimming towards the shore. It was quite a distance. How long it would take me?
“Your observation is no longer needed!” -I heard an angry voice behind me and got pushed off the boat.
The fat fellow was floating right next to me. “If it would not be for you, I would have stayed alive! Then he added: I’m not a good swimmer.”
“Stop playing a fool! - I shouted at him, - Use your survival instinct! You’ll make it, plus you have a life jacket on!”
“No, it’s too far for me to swim, - he persisted, - I stay here.”
The water was pretty cold and we both started coughing… “It’s’ not a time for a strike, I must keep moving!” - I thought and announced my decision: “I don’t know about you, but my survival instinct tells me to swim. You join me?” “No, I cannot trust you anymore. I choose to wait for the rescue team”. - He answered and looked away.
I started swimming into the night, wondering if I ever going to see another dawn…
Part Three
I woke up in a big, open, strange looking place, being chained to a pole, which stood right in the middle. The clamoring crowd was pressing into me from every side. At my feet I saw a pile of wood, ready to be burned. It looked terrifying… Am I about to be executed? What did I do?!? As an answer to my thoughts, I’ve heard yelling from the rioting crowd:
“He is the corruption personified! He must be executed!”
“Slaughter him like an animal!”
“Burn him alive and let his name be forgotten!”
Suddenly it became very quiet, as a man, dressed in a long black robe lifted up the scale, which he held in his hand. “Let justice be done!” - He announced. Upon his words riot grew even wilder; one of the men approached and kindled the fire under my feet. I screamed, terrified… and immediately felt a touch of someone’s hand on my forehead.
“I’m glad you’re waking up, - said the doctor, sitting on the edge of my bed, - but you’re still coming out of the shock. Take it easy, boy!”
I wanted to ask this doctor so many questions, but he was already gone. I looked around the room and noticed a fellow, laying in the bed next to me; his head was all bandaged and he had casts on different parts of his body. “Welcome to our broken world” - was his greeting. - I’ve heard you survived a boat crush… You got off easy! you could have been completely paralyzed! You should rejoice!”
“Yea…” - I wasn’t convinced by his conclusion.
Simply laying there in silence was boring. “You want to know how it happened? - he didn’t wait for me to ask. - I saw an injustice and got involved… This is the result!”
I slightly nodded my head, but really wasn’t in a mood to hear the details. But he didn’t care, he wanted to talk:
“Sooner or later everyone needs to learn that people aren’t interested in a change. This world isn’t made for freedom. It’s much better to stay hidden in a desolate place somewhere and live in peace, minding your own little business: work, love, raising kids, without asking too many questions. Trust me, I’ve learned it the hard way.”
His words brought me back into my classroom and I remembered Moses’s story. “I wonder what happened to Moses?” - I thought out loud and suddenly saw the old man, who was replacing my history teacher! He was standing at the door of our room!
“I didn’t want you to miss the next lesson”, - he said with a smile and sat down next to my bed. I was astonished to see him. “How did you know I’m here? How did you find me? Who told you?… Wait, did you come all the way just to give me next history lesson? Just for me, personally?” - I was overwhelmed.
“Relax, you need peace right now. I will answer all of your questions, but one at a time.” He waited for me to settle down in my bed, then spoke:
“Your father was very concerned about your decision to be your own person. He called the school and when he found out that I taught history in your class, he made arrangements that it would not happen anymore. So, there wasn’t a third lesson about Moses… but I thought that you might want to hear it.”
“Well… of course, but why me? Do you know me?”
“I know you since the day you were born.”
My face turned into a big question mark, but he made a sign for me not to interrupt.
“We were good friends with your father… a long time ago, when he was still working at the police department. You don’t need to know the details, but our ways went apart because of my faith in God, in the true God of Israel. That’s why I chose to teach history from the Scripture, remember? Are you ready for the lesson?”
“Yes, sir” - I replied most seriously.
“Okay, so where is Moses?”
I tried to move my head to the sides. “Exactly. He run away and nobody knew where he was… for many years. He started life over and was living in tranquility, minding his own little business, which was to tend the flock of his father in law. He loved his wife and was raising his children, living his quiet life, forgetting the trouble of the past… Until one day his routine in the land of oblivion got interrupted by an encounter which turned his whole life around.
As Moses was tending the sheep, the Almighty visited him.”
”But how Moses recognized God?” - I interrupted.
“Oh, the Lord has a way to each one of us! Moses saw a bush in flames, but not being burned up. This strange phenomenon drew his attention, and as Moses came close, the Lord spoke to him from that flame”.
“Wow! What did He say?” - I needed to know.
“He commanded Moses to take his shoes off.” - he started his answer, but I simply couldn’t wait:
“That’s it? Why?”
“A good question, - he answered with a patience of a true teacher. - Because the ground where Moses stood was holy and a new foundation needed to be laid for his walk… Of cause, that was only the beginning. The Lord chose Moses for a task and was about to send him back to Egypt to lead his people out of slavery into freedom.”
“Wow! That’s exactly what he wanted to do! He was exited to hear that, right?” - I felt happy for Moses.
“No, not anymore, Moses didn’t perceive himself the way he used to… He presented many doubts and even asked the Lord to send someone else to do the job”. He saw my puzzled face and went on:
“At first Moses defined his world through his external circumstances… until he found his true origin. Then he saw himself as a mighty deliverer, but when others doubted his mission, he ran away into oblivion and his opinion of himself changed to the opposite. He wasn’t sure of himself, like he used to. Now he talks to the Almighty, trying to convince Him that he isn’t qualified…”
I imagined myself in Moses’s place and suggested: “But it’s true: He saw the injustice and suffering going on there. What would he do alone against all those powers of evil? Shouldn’t he weigh his options?”
“The Lord didn’t send him out as a mere human, but as a miracle worker, having access to His unlimited resources, performing signs and wonders. Moses was sealed in God’s holy purpose; it was like a shield round about him, which no adversity could penetrate. But the most important were not even the miracles.”
“What do you mean?” - I asked, impatient to hear an explanation.
“You see, each one of us sits on the seat of justice in his own heart. Each person constantly compares, weighs situations, behaviors of others, his own responses, justifying the one, condemning the other… We establish justice for ourselves. As long as we belong to ourselves, we will live out of our own judgements, whether good or bad. But once you encounter a higher authority and realize that your life belongs to God, then you will put your own judgements aside and step onto His holy ground, into His righteous judgements and His eternal purposes.”
I held my breath not to miss anything. He continued:
“The world of human judgement is a world of slavery. People constantly bind themselves by their own judgements; but freedom is only found on God’s holy ground, on His territory, in His domain. Rejecting the Creator, the world abounds in madness and deception; but slavery can never satisfy. God Almighty is the Highest Judge, he holds the scales in His hand.”
I remembered my father. “When I will get out of here, I will go back home… and I don’t feel sure of myself,” - I said and I looked down.
“Don’t be afraid, - He encouraged me, - Remember Moses! He was immovable by the surrounding world of human judgements, he was inspired and led from above. This is a life of every true servant of God - a life of worship: a life, when you allow Him to lead you and trust Him for the outcome. The Almighty always holds the last word and His righteous judgements are already shining forth through the layers of darkness, as a dawn of a new day”.
After the End
Letter Tav