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Rated: E · Short Story · Religious · #1175908
A story of a crippled boy, who best serves GOD in a small community
Nestled in a rural county, a country settlement was destined to become as celebrated, as several other hamlets have been elevated in notoriety, through-out history. This small village was comprised of only fifty families. The enclave formed a sparse membership, in a single, independent church, around which the town had been built.

While slight in number, the congregation was an energetic, fundamentalist,revivalist and charismatic assembly. The King James Version of scripture was the basis for all teachings and sermons. The community's population attended their church to hear and learn 'THE WORD OF THE LORD".

Then too, there was the music. This included instruments, singing, standing, swaying, dancing feet and clapping hands; along with frequent vocal praises called out to the Lord
Almighty. All were confident that they were justly and properly worshipping GOD. They felt assured that there existed communication with the Spirit.

All were focused. All were strengthened. The minister spoke with amplitude and certitude...

"Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. Love your LORD with all your heart and soul. Love your fellowman,for we are made in HIS image."

And there was agreement among them all. With the benediction, the church doors were swung open. The worshippers exited expressing joy, while bolstered in purpose and conviction.

But, GOD began to be concerned about this flock. Had they truly received HIS message? Did they comprehend HIS challenge and were they now committed to living up to its demands upon their daily lives. Were they conducting their lives as HE wished
and commanded?

Since each citizen was individual and different, GOD decided to assume an unlikely image and walk among them.
And this HE did...

GOD caused HIS spine to be crooked. HE pitted the skin of
HIS face. HE placed sores and scars upon HIS forehead. HE placed
rags upon HIS body and took a crutch in hand. Then, during the
heat of mid-day, HE walked Main Street in the town, a lane lined
with homes, border to border.

Being a small, closely-knit community, all soon became aware that a seemingly, less-than-perfect individual was in their midst. Some came out on porches to observe and ponder over HIS presence. Others peered through window and door screening to attend to that which was transpiring.

During each encounter that occurred, on the street, with a citizen of the community, GOD would inquire...

"Might I have a cold drink
and a place to sit that is
blocked from the sun's
scorching rays?"

All were hesitant, and there were many excuses created, as
to why that citizen could not be involved and assist. In truth and reality, some feared for their own safety, or that of their
family. Some were apprehensive about possible illness from exposure and contamination, from HE who appeared to be a less-
than-healthy individual. Some just found HIS appearance too discomforting and repulsive. For each, their space and privacy was being infringed upon by an individual who was not an accepted member of their village.

Some parents even rushed to collect their children from the community playground, where all the town's youth had gathered to play...all that is, except for one young man. That particular boy was crippled and confined to sitting in a wheel
chair on the porch of the family home, as his daily activity.

Both of the lad's parents worked, so that he was alone at the house. As the unfamiliar tatterdemalion walked ever closer,
the stranger seemed to faulter and stumble on the pathway. HE
was nearly to the home of the physically restricted young man,
who had just observed the incident, from where he was positioned
on the veranda. The boy called out, in a voice genuine with concern...

"Mr. , are you O.K.? Come out of
the hot sun! Sit on the porch swing
a spell. My mother has some cold
water in the ice-box for me. I will
get some of that for you. I won't be
long. I'm rather quick with this chair."


The boy did not see the imperfections. He only saw a person in need. GOD had not asked of him. The boy had perceived a way that he could be of service to others.


But, it seemed that the boy was not quick enough. By the
time the chair was wheeled back through the screen-door framing, by the lad's still strong arms and commanding grip, with a glass of water steadied between his knees; the very perplexed youth
discovered that the stranger was no longer in sight., Briefly
musing, the boy then drank the water himself. The water must
have been most refreshing, for the boy smiled in a manner he had not done in years.

The young man's parents were especially tired that evening, having worked in the heat all day. As exhaustion
tends to impose, there was only sparse conversation at the
supper table. Their son never communicated about the en-
counter that had transpired earlier in the afternoon.

It is customary, in the communities in the area,for there
to be revival services conducted in churches, on summer evenings. As events would transpire, this particular evening, all the town's population were in attendance. Having had a
stranger roaming about such an isolated community, was unsettling; for this was a town used to having its tranquility
undisturbed and its normalcy a steadfast consequence of their rustic lifestyle. It seemed appropriate for the citizens to congregate to worship in reverence to their LORD. Doing so would allow the members to regain their sense of contentment.

The service began with a processional hymn on schedule. Though this particular song of praise had never been sung in their church before, the minister was inspired to have selected as the openning hymn of the service, "JOYFUL, JOYFUL, WE ADORE THEE". The parishioners all sang loudly, clearly and with much
enthusiasm, for this was a familiar melody.

As the congregation regained thir seating and became
silent, following the singing of three verses, there was a pause in the service. The minister began to scan each row of seating
and seemed to look into the eyes of each one present. And, then he spoke...

"What we have sung is
true but for only just
one of us."

There was a spontaineous shifting in their seating
and a most audible stirring from the disgruntled congre-
gation; for each was certain that they loved GOD and were
in HIS favor.

In response, the minister raised his hands, arms extended,palms open, outward and upward, which seemd to quiet the now perplexed gathering. The Reverand then turned his attention to the last pew, at the back of the church. At the end of the bench, placed in the aisle, a wheel-chair had been positioned. There-in sat a young man with a gentle smile on his face.

"Jonathan", the preacher called back to the attentive boy... "I ask you to stand and walk to the alter."

As the congregation gasped in disbelief and amazement, this the young man did. There he received a blessing and offered his praise to GOD.The congregation then understood who had walked Main Street in their town. They all prayed their own silent petition.

The service concluded with a rousing, joyous expression of that which had been witnessed, with the vibrant singing of "HOW GREAT THOU ART" as a recessional hymn; though none left the church. All instead gathered in awe and elation around Jonathan
and his parents, who wept with joy over the gift that had been grantd to their son.




written in honor of
James Gillespie Blaine Loveland
( my Grandfather and mentor)


by James Warren Colegrove
using the pen name Blaine Warren

extracted from maternal grandfather
James G. Blaine Loveland
and
paternal grandfather
Ralph Warren Colegrove



last editing and additions April 2011

published at the prompting of
Terri Calvert



© Copyright 2006 Blaine Warren (blainewarren at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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