THE rain fell in gentle drops onto the waiting leaves that seemed to be smiling as they raised their branches heavenward and received their watery blessing.
The birds sang happily, and lazily flew from tree to tree enjoying the droplets and playing a game with the lenient raindrops.
She sat at the window crying. He walked to her. “Is there something amiss?” he asked. “My husband,” she cried and her tears fell larger than the playful drops outside. “Is he somewhere out in the rain?” he asked, worried. “He beat me,” she cried. “I didn’t see him do that,” he said looking for cruel husband.
“Not now but two years ago,” she said, “and this rain always makes me remember that day!” He looked beyond her tears and at the picture like scenic beauty that was being painted by nature. He heard the soft pitter patter.
He cocked a ear at a sparrows cheep and a cuckoo’s trill and saw the lush green of garden bush and thick leaved tree.
“Can you feel the present?” he whispered. “All that beauty and peace that is happening here?”
She shook her head and looked at him bewildered.
He smiled. “During the war in Kosova in 1999,” he said, “three soldiers were captured and held hostage for more than a month.
They were ill treated and tortured, but after intense negotiations, a breakthrough occurred and the prisoners were allowed to go free.” “One of them, Christopher Stone, would not leave.” “Why?” she asked, “didn’t he want his freedom?”
“Because he wanted his freedom, he didn’t leave, Christopher said that he first wanted to meet the enemy soldier who had served as his guard and who had cruelly beaten him up everyday.” “He wanted to beat him up?” she asked puzzled.
“Christopher went up to the guard, held his hand and prayed.” “What did he pray?” she asked. “
That God would give him the strength to be able to forgive the man for all the merciless beatings.” “And why did he ever want to make such a prayer?” she asked.
“So that he could be a free man,” he said, “so that he would not spend the rest of his life hating that enemy soldier, going through every whip lash, every slap on face and fist on body.
Christopher knew that to be free he had to forgive. Where is your husband?” “He’s dead,” she whispered. “
Then pray for strength to forgive him once and for all, so you can be free and enjoy the moment.”
The rain fell in gentle drops onto the waiting leaves that seemed to be smiling as they raised their branches heavenward and received their watery blessing.
The birds sang happily and lazily flew from tree to tree enjoying the droplets and playing a game with the lenient raindrops. She sat at the window smiling..!
