AwakeningA Story by Scott S A tale of discovery. A story of something that we all need. On a tranquil morning, as the sun rose above the hills, a man walked alone. A small and frail man was he, with a heavy brow and tousled hair. He strolled along a wooded path wet with morning dew, occupied only by the sounds of birds and his own thoughts. He was deep in thought.
The little man had lived a turbulent life, wrought with anxiety and loss. The years had not been kind to him, yet he accepted it as part of living. He never complained about much, instead he chose to keep his thoughts secret, in a box locked deep within his soul.
For years, the man had lived alone. The passing of his wife was still fresh in his mind. It lie there, sharp and cutting, like a dagger within his heart. He longed to see her.....to feel her warmth. He wished for the tingle of her breath on his neck.....for her soft skin against his. To touch her face again would be heavenly. And so he walked.
As he came to a bend in the trail, the little man felt naked and alone. No matter how hard he wished, he could not find comfort in his life. He could not find the peace and solace that he so needed. Something was missing....it had left him through the ages. He accepted this fact, but felt powerless to change it. The man had hoped for some light to shine through his tunnel of darkness, but it had not come. He walked on.
The man approached a clearing with only a handful of barren trees dotting the trail. The sun had climbed higher into the eastern sky. Song birds sang merrily, as if they had not a care in the world. Shriveled leaves lay about his feet as he walked, the dirt clung to his shoes.
As he came to the middle of the clearing, something ahead caught his eye. A house, small and unkept, lie in the distance. His tired eyes strained to make out it's features. As he came closer, he spied a single bird in the weathered tree just ahead. Something about the bird grasped his interest. A small brown sparrow with tiny eyes watched him closely. The little man stopped a few feet away to stare at his companion. It did not move it's head as birds do.....it only fixed it's gaze on him. It's voice now quiet, the bird kept it's vigil on the man. Although it felt odd, something about the bird's presence was comforting. Something that he could not grasp, could not explain. The man stood tranquil and gazed upon the sparrow. In that small capsule of time, he recalled words that a friend had spoken years before. "Knock, and the door will be opened." He wondered why at this precise moment he was remembering words from so many moons ago. And he pondered the relevance of it now, at this time in his life. The bird bobbed his head briefly. Then it quietly fluttered away into the morning breeze.
At first the man was puzzled by what had just happened. As his mind adjusted to the oddity, a quietness came over him. He wondered what message the bird had tried to deliver. Had there been a message at all? Or was his imagination running away from him? The little man had never considered himself spiritual, although he had known people who were. But most of them had died, leaving him with no real friends, without anyone to talk to. Although he had yearned to be a friend of God, he had yet to discover the magic that would allow him such an honor. Or so he thought. He watched the sparrow disappear into the hush of the breeze. He continued walking, until the house was just a few yards away.
The shack was old and haggard. Years of weather and no care had taken its toll. It sat calmly on it's foundation, cobwebs strewn about like small nets along the paned windows. It was obviously deserted, and it looked as though it had been vacant for many years. A large moss covered door, hung on rusty hinges at the front of the house. The man could not let his curiosity abate. He stepped up to the front door, which was partially ajar. Giving it a slight shove, the door squeaked open.
The inside was dark. Most of the curtains were closed, and a smell of dampness clung to the walls. Cautiously, the little man moved about, opening the musty curtains as he went. The new light revealed a room mostly barren, but with dust covering much of the floor. It was chilly inside, and the man shivered. He pulled the collar of his jacket tight against his neck. The tiny house, although abandoned for ages, appealed to him. Something about it.....he couldn't put his finger on what it was.....gave the house.........personality. Yes, personality! The smell, the dampness on the walls, the chill in the air...as crazy as it sounded, gave the house warmth. The little man did not stop to wonder why this was. To question his feelings right now would be unnecessary. He simply accepted that the ambiance of the little house made him feel comfortable. It made him feel safe.
In the far corner of the room, almost unnoticed, sat a pint sized, rickety table. He spied something on top, and moved closer to investigate. There in the dimly lit corner of the room, on top of the tiny table, sat a solitary Bible. Leather bound and covered in dust, the pages had frayed from years of use. The man picked it up and began thumbing through the verses. As he turned the pages his eyes began to adjust better to the light, and he became aware of a feeling of relief. It was a contentment that he had never experienced, and it washed over him like a gentle mountain stream. He became blissfully at peace, so much so that he was unaware of the tear that crept from his eye.
The little man took his time and carefully read each of the printed words in front of him. He had never, in all of his years on this earth, looked inside a Bible. And although the words were foreign to him, they spoke in a way that made perfect sense. No clarification was needed. The verses stroked his heart, like a lovely maiden about to kiss her lover. It felt simply luxurious.
As he turned to the next page, a passage caught his eye. It simply read, "Knock, and the door will be opened. For everyone who asks, shall receive. Everyone who seeks, finds." He was again reminded of his friends words, a friend whose name or face he could not recall. But he began to understand why, after all these years, the verse had stuck with him.
The frail little man dropped to his knees. In silence.....in the corner of the room....he "asked". And as his heart began to receive, as a peace that he had never known before came over him, the man wept. Instinctively he knew that his life from this instance on, would never be the same. He smiled through tears of joy.
He sat the Bible on the table where he found it. Still smiling, he walked out of the small house into the morning air. As he began to make his way home, the man's eyes were drawn to the bare tree branches above his head. Perched on a limb, was the little sparrow. It seemed to be smiling too.
© 2008 Scott SReviews
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Scott SORAboutI'm Scott. I live in a small town on the Oregon Coast, and have been writing in one form or another since I was about thirteen years old. I have always enjoyed expressing myself through the written w.. more..Writing
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