Faith of Our Fathers
By j3nny3lf
- 519 reads
Not very long ago at all, but before television was the norm, and
far before those magical beasts known as computers, a child was born to
a man and his wife. This child was strong and beautiful, his hair was
golden curls, his eyes the color of the sky on a clear day, and his
laughter was like the sound of bells chiming off in the distance.
The boy's father was an Episcopal minister, called to the pulpit by
God, and ordained by man to lead the flocks. The babe grew to a boy,
beautiful, bright and charming, and when he reached the age of four
years, disaster struck.
There was polio rampant in those days, the boy was struck, his body
stiffened by the dread disease, his breathing tortured, and he hovered
on the edge of death for several days. The boy's father spent hours
kneeling on the floor beside the small hospital bed, praying and
pleading for the life of his son, the boy who lifted his heart. On the
third night, the doctors came to the father and told him somberly that
by morning he would no longer have a son.
The boy's father wept, his heart breaking into smallest pieces, and he
climbed into his car and headed home to prepare his wife for the
morning. On the way, the man tried to pray again, one last time, but
nothing would come.. he was bereft of everything, son, faith,
hope.
As he drove down the street he saw a small church, a light in its
glorious stained glass window, and he came to an immediate halt.
Opening the door of the church, the man knelt down in a pew, thinking
that perhaps, here in a house of God, he could at least find his faith
again and not be so empty.
He knelt, and he waited, not trying to pray, just being calm and
peaceful.. Soon, inspiration struck, and he began to pray, vowing his
life to god, and the life of his son, his prayer was beautiful,
eloquent, moving, although heard by none but the man and his Lord. The
man's heart spoke to God, and said, "Take him if you must, Lord, it
will hurt me, but I will see him again when I too come home to rest
with you.."
"Not my will, but thine be done"
The man stayed there for hours, the priest of the church (for it was a
Catholic place) came through the vestibule and saw him, and from the
set of the man's shoulders and head, he was aware that there was
serious business of the soul being conducted, and although the time had
long since passed for the church to be closed for the night, the priest
left the man be, and sat back in a far pew to wait.
Hours passed, and finally the man rose from his knees, turning, he
walked down the aisle to the doors of the church, and the priest must
have seen a look of absolute peace and submission to the will of God on
the man's face The man stepped outside of the church, and into the dawn
of a new day.
He had prayed through the night, unaware of the passing hours. He
stepped into his car, drove home, and got his wife, and together they
went to the hospital to collect the body of their small son.
Stepping into the hospital lobby, they went to the desk and asked for
the doctor who had cared for their child. The receptionist looked up,
"Reverend Thomas, Dr. Wood is in his office, waiting to speak with
you." Together the man and his wife walked down the long corridor, he
holding her up, because her heart was broken, and he himself at peace
with the will of God. They stepped into the doctor's office, and were
greeted. As they sat, the doctor began to speak, telling them about how
their son had passed a terrible night, growing worse and worse, and
then all at once, his limbs had relaxed, a smile had struck the child's
lips, and his breathing had calmed. "There is no medical explanation,"
said the doctor. "Spontaneous recovery, perhaps? All I know is that
your son does not have polio, and seems to be perfectly fine." and the
doctor broke forth into an enormous smile.
The man and his wife burst into tears, overwhelmed by the emotions
welling up, and they ran, sped, RACED down the hall to see their boy,
and walking thru the door, they pulled the child into their arms, his
laughter ringing like bells in the distance, his smile warming the
world, and his eyes sparkling like the stars in the sky. This is how my
grandmother told me this story..
This is how my grandfather Clyde came to be at peace with the will of
his God, and how my father Roger was granted a chance to live and grow
and bring forth his own two children and leave a living legacy behind
him when he finally went home at the age of 42.
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