It was the sound of his mother’s blood curdling scream that made him turn around. He stared in horror as the men stabbed his parents over and over again. A dark crimson liquid stained the ground around them. His mother’s screams were cut short by the knife that was pierced deep into her chest. The men turned to his father with the ghost of a smile. Slowly, but surely they raised the knife over the father and brought it down with all the force they could muster.
Just before his father closed his eyes, he looked at his seven year old who was hiding behind a tree. He had tears streaming across his young face. The boy could hear the men running away from the murders that they had just committed. The stuffed panda that his father had bought for him from the store lay forgotten on the ground as the boy rushed to his dying father’s side. His father took one long last look at him and then, he along with his wife left their son as they set out for eternity.
The old man was jerked out of his thoughts by the sound of the car screeching to a stop. Sixty three years had passed after his parents’ death but the horror of their murders continued to haunt him. He stepped out of the car and his wife and son soon came to his side. The old man made his way to the building that loomed a few feet ahead of him. As he walked towards it, the board that was on the building came into focus. It said St. John’s Orphanage and had a picture of Mother Teresa by its side.
He knocked on the door and was received by a nun dressed in brown robes. She gave the visitors a warm smile and invited them inside. As soon as they stepped in, they were welcomed with the sight of more than a hundred kids rushing towards them. The old man left them with his son knowing that he would distribute the truck load of gifts that they had brought.
He followed the nun to her desk which had become all too familiar over the past years. The man wrote a cheque for Rupees ten crores and signed it. He handed the cheque to the nun, who gave him a grateful smile and took him back to his family.
As the family stepped out of the orphanage, the father’s sight fell on the chapel that was a few yards away from them. Leaving his family, the old man made his way to the chapel, knowing that there would be someone waiting for him there.
Taking off his slippers, the man walked to the altar and knelt before the cross. It crossed his mind briefly that exactly sixty three years ago on this day, he was on his knees in front of the same cross. The only difference was that the reason he knelt in front of the cross all those years back was to curse the Lord for taking his parents away from him. He never understood why the Lord claimed his parents at such a young age. The old man knew that he had been a holy child. He read the Bible and prayed every day without fail and yet he was at the receiving end of such an unfortunate tragedy.
After his parents’ death, the young boy had lost all purpose in life. If it wasn’t for a certain nun he would have perished years ago.
It was Sister Agnes who took the boy under her wings. The orphanage that she took him to was his home till he was eighteen. The sisters gave the boy everything he needed- clothes, food and even an education. Yet the boy could never find peace there. The black moss covered walls of the orphanage constantly reminded him of his home. At times, the illusion of his parents would be so vivid that he would reach out to them, only to be overcome with grief when his small hands met with thin air. Days and nights were a blur to the child as he slowly sunk into depression. The eleven years that he lived in that orphanage filled him with so much sorrow that he tried to slit open his wrists in a desperate attempt to join his parents. The little boy, now in his teens would often wonder why God did this to him. The boy pleaded and begged the Lord for an answer but He never gave him one.
But now as the old man thought about his childhood, he finally understood. He got the answer to the question he had asked about years ago. If the Lord had never taken away his parents, the man wouldn’t be where he was right now- a successful businessman with an heir. If the Lord didn’t claim his parents, he wouldn’t have offered his support to orphanages across the world. The old man realized that he was to be an instrument through which Christ worked His miracles to so many orphans. The Lord put the man through the pain and suffering of losing his parents so that he could understand exactly what other orphans were facing. He did it so that they could have what the old man never had in his childhood- a shoulder to cry on, a friend through troubled times and most importantly someone who would understand.
The man knew before he even turned that He was standing behind him. He knew his time had come. He turned around to face the Lord. Smiling at the old man, He reached out His hand. The man looked at it, knowing that this would be his last day on Earth, knowing that he would finally be meeting his parents who he lost sixty three years ago, knowing that the crown the Lord promised would be waiting for him. The old man took his Lord’s hand and felt his earthly self being left behind, knowing that somewhere up there Heaven’s angels were waiting for him.
