Him

31 / 5 / 98

They found Him in the backyard. Who was He? How long had He been there? Why was He there? These were the questions on their minds but He lay unconscious so their fantasies had time to grow. He was a prince, or from another world, or a prince from another world. He was small though. Tiny really, and glowing, a visual hum, two small eyes and a slightly upturned nose. He was no infant though, nor child neither. He was born closer to God they reasoned, like a Saint, or a Pope. Imagine a Pope found in their backyard! At least a future Pope. The possibilities multiplied throughout the night. By morning He was borderline - one more mouth to feed/saviour of us all.

His pattern of breathing was constant throughout the day though He batted not an eyelid, so that by nightfall they were sensing bad omens. See the angelic smile, He sleeps in paradise, why wake from heaven? They didn't know the answer. They would all have been there because there is there and here is just, well, here. So they believed. More so, they felt. And when they stared further at Him they stared further at God. Who was mocking who?

Day by day He grew though He ate not, awoke not, changed His breathing not. A miracle! A miracle! God be praised! We are witnessing a miracle!

Then one day, the twelfth day, they awoke to find Him still. Cold. Unbreathing, that is, dead. They tried valiantly to resuscitate His little body but He had departed this place. They gathered hands around Him chanting and carrying His little body outside to be burnt in the backyard but such a wonderful, vibrantly glowing fire sprang up that they leapt forward in ecstasy and were burnt to death.

Their ashes be joined eternal to their God through Him.


- Max Flory