Wednesday, July 8, 2009

In the name of God

“The smell of burned bodies, gasoline, smoke, pee, fear and many other things was unbearable, but I had to be strong and contain the impulse to run away as far and as fast as I could. I have been hiding for three days with no water, food or warm cloths. I was very confused and still trying to understand what was going on. I had no idea why my father put me in the oven and instructed me not to get out until everybody was gone and I was sure of being alone. My crying mother hugged and kissed me as if her life was depending on this very act. Then she whispered in my ear: “Cover your ears, close your eyes, and do not cry. Whatever happens here today shall not stop you from becoming a good man. Things happen for a reason; do not use this as an excuse to hate and kill in the name of revenge. Do not ever forget what I just said, make me proud!”
I remember the banging noise of something breaking and the people shouting that followed immediately after the oven door was closed. I wanted to cry but fear left me speechless, I wet my pants when I heard my parents’ howls for mercy mixed with strangers’ malicious laughs. I could not see what was happening so I tried to guess what was going on out of what I could hear. I recognized some of my neighbor’s voices while they were going through the house breaking things and shouting blasphemes against my parents and their religion. After what seemed hours they finally left, so I patiently waited for my parents to come and take me from the hiding place… Then I remembered my mother and finally understood her… she was saying goodbye...
I couldn’t stand it anymore so without thinking twice I pushed the oven door open. All of a sudden the world stopped moving, the shock was such that I immediately ran back to my safe place. With wide open eyes I kept staring into the darkness of the oven, as if trying to erase what I just saw. But the horror visions kept hunting me back.
I knew that I needed to get out from there, otherwise I would die and then my parents’ sacrifice would have been for nothing. I gathered all the strength that a ten year old boy could manage and with a sudden determination I stepped out and slowly started walking towards the door. I was looking up and only peeped at the floor to avoid falling; whatever happened I had to ensure I did not look down, or else I would not be able to keep the promise I made…”
Peter pauses and with tenderness looks at his audience, evaluating their different reactions. Everybody is quite; the silence is only broken by the sobbing of many. There are over one hundred today, from different races and religions providing him the perfect scenario to deliver his message. He is a man of God and peace who has dedicated his life to spread the words of love, tolerance and forgiveness.
A peaceful smile dresses his old face when with his deep masculine voice he says: “My childhood experience has made me a strong man, I have gone through horrible things but I have survived. My mother’s last words embedded in my heart kept me from falling into despair, hate and revenge. I could never betray her example of unconditional love. Even when facing dead she saw beyond her executors’ criminal acts. She saw their struggling souls and their unconsciousness, killing people just because they did not believe in the same God. She was aware that her sacrifice and the one of many others was a must, as human kind usually requires extremes to react. The victims and the victimizers where all part of the big plan, where each part was teaching humanity “what to be” and “what not to be” I’ve shared with all of you today my story with the hope that together we can all make a better world, where we do not need to kill or hate each other trying to impose our beliefs with the conviction that we know better. Let’s honor the sacrifices of our ancestors and of all those that today for some reason or another are going through any kind of struggles…”

© 2009 Gabriela Abalo – Author

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Sherry Bakhtian said...

Hi Gabi,

Powerful story! If Peter can be forgiving, how can we not? Thanks for reminding me when I get all self-righteous and forget.


Gabriela Abalo said...

Thank u Sherry. I'm glad u enjoyed Peter's story.


Elly said...

it was VERY strong!

Jessie said...

It is very inspirational