Chapter 9: Freedom

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"As I walked out of the door toward my freedom, I knew that if I did not leave all the anger, hatred, and bitterness behind,
That I would still be in prison."
-- Nelson Mandela--


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---Denis---

He started to pack his belongings. There's but just little of them. Only these few personal items that he treasured for the past years deserved his keep in the new life that he would be facing. Besides, he had nothing when he came in this place and he would leave the same, bringing nothing - except some few memories that changed his life forever.

He checked his belongings one by one. Something was missing. Underneath his pillow, he took Denise' photos, looked at them for quite sometime, then finally wrapped them with a piece of paper and kept them in the inner pocket of his faded jacket that he was wearing. Then, he reached out for a small Bible, underneath the same pillow, the one given to him by a missionary couple years ago when everything in his life was hopeless. Slowly, he placed it inside his bag.

Momentarily, a jail guard appeared to escort him on his way out. One by one, his inmates gave him either a hug or a tap on a shoulder.

"God bless, Brother Denis," said Steve, his closest buddy in the cell.

"See you after few months. I will be waiting for you outside. We'll continue what we have started here," he said tapping his shoulder then continued to address the rest by saying,

"I know in God's time, you'll be leaving this place, too. Have faith. God bless you all, brothers." He gave his final wave as he walked away from all the prisoners cheering for his freedom that morning in their respective cells.

Outside, he was greeted by Pastor William Cummins, Director of the Legal and Trust Department and a missionary couple who had been so instrumental for the life he was living now. After exchanging few words, he realized Pastor Cummins had an important appointment that morning and that he came along with the couple for some documents regarding his release. The minister was pleased to meet him personally and would be seeing him in the evening for dinner in the Mission. Pastor Cummins went ahead taking the opposite direction while the couple led him to a waiting car in the parking lot.

Before he took his seat, he looked back and for the last time, he saw the magnificent structure of the penitentiary filled with prisoners enslaved by the cruelty of sin, uncertain if tomorrow would ever come to free body and spirit from the bondage that no one would ever want.

For the last seven years, he stayed here although he did not deserve to be here. Night and day, he prayed for his innocence. Although, he was not a praying man, but circumstances pushed him to acknowledge the power of prayer, even he felt how undeserving he was for His grace.

It was in this place that he learned the lesson of complete dependence to the One who can make impossible things possible. He prayed for God's miraculous intervention. And when hopelessness descended upon his spirit, he would always close his eyes and think about that little girl who was waiting to fulfill his promise. He's coming home free but still, he remained a prisoner, for the lies he wrought in his daughter's heart was so strong like a chain in his entire body.

"Shall we go now, Bro. Denis," said the driver in his late fifties. He was surprised to hear his name from a stranger but at the same time elated for transporting him to his temporary dwelling.

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry, mister...?"

"Just call me Mark, the mission driver. Welcome to the outside world, Brod." He extended his right hand to shake him.

"Thank you, Bro. Mark," he said while he received his hand, shaking it. He was grateful to know that they were of the same faith.

"I was instructed to bring you in the Mission compound, unless you want to go somewhere else. Anyway, you're expected to be around during dinner for a dinner testimonial meeting with the rest of the staff."

"Will you please bring me to a telegram service office? I need to send one for my parents."

"Yeah sure. They must be very happy for your homecoming."

"Yeah...my parents are excited to see me."

" Unmarried, huh?"

"My wife died 17years ago."

"No kids?"

"I have a daughter. She was just a kid when I left." He pulled Denise pictures out from the inside of his jacket. "Here she is," he proudly presented those pictures to Mark.

Mark looked at them adoringly and said, "I bet she looks like her mom."

"You're right...an exact replica," he kept the pictures back inside his jacket after wrapping them again.

"Lucky child for having a father like you."

Denis was not sure what to say for such a compliment. Could he tell him that his daughter was not aware that he was kept in prison for all those years? No. I would not tell him. Avoiding further discussion about Denise, he asked him,

"How long will it take us to the Mission compound?"

"About two hours."

"Oh! Quite a long drive."

"Yeah...I think you need some rest. I will wake you up if we are almost there."

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Tap! Tap! Tap!
An old woman opened the door and saw him standing outside as he spread his arms ready to hug her. But she did not recognize him.

"Inang! It's Denis, your son!" The woman adjusted her eyeglasses in disbelief and when she realized, it's her son, she embraced him and broke into uncontrollable tears.

Denise, hearing the noise, went outside her room, wondering who could be the visitor. She saw her grandmother sobbing against his shoulder. She didn't recognize him, too. Their eyes met. He said something but no words were coming out from him. He tried to touch her but he could not hold her. Denise eyes were penetrating. He could see hatred from those deep-seated brown eyes, questioning... accusing him. Then suddenly, he saw her crying, not with tears, but with blood oozing from the inner corner of her eyes.

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"Bro. Denis wake up... We're almost here," Mark tapped his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, he gasped for his breath, terrified.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked.

"I...I'm fine. It's just a...a bad dream." Then, he found himself praying silently.

Oh, God forgive me. Help me find the courage to face my daughter and tell her the truth. Only then, I can truly be a free man and live at peace for Your glory. Amen.
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