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The Visit

By Rev. Darlene

It’s been three years and a day hasn’t past that Janice thought of her child. She could still see him in the morgue with a badly disfigured body; she had to rely on her mind and pictures for total recall of details of physical qualities. She looked down and noticed the cracked earth in so many places that seemed unable to come together. It was as if her spirit journeyed and left her searching for meaning. She lived daily with a hole – a void that she could not fill. While looking, it was as if she and the earth were friends. In ease, she began to speak. She wept but continued in dialogue.

“We have so much in common. I can’t seal my cracks because the weather gives me stormy forecasts. It’s brought about changes that even the earth of my soul cannot endure. The earth cries to the blood of my child and those who have been killed in the midst of their dawn. Those who shoot the guns or express violence don’t see nor do they understand the tears, the pains and the agony that is left behind. It’s like handing someone a torch that will never light. They don’t value life because they don’t even value theirs. I seek to forgive, but by the time my heart is ready, I hear of another death or another violent act.

I cannot begin to imagine what possibility can run through the mind of a person to inflict pain upon another. It can’t be any fun, eventually they will have to stop running from themselves and then then see the truth. I can’t image how they can live without seeing the face of their victim. I can’t image how they can pray or even sleep at night. What about their children? What kind of legacy can they possibility give them? Who are they doing it for? Who’s proud of them? So I can’t even understand the reason. There is none. We cannot take what we did not give - life. Through I may be in pain, at lease I am free from this scorn of life.

Even as I stand, I can feel the presence of my child trying to console me, I had the good times with them as well as the grief, I see my child’s face and I hear their voice. They are not around, but yet they are present. I knew my child was a child of, love, laughter, and life and they would not want me to make this cemetery my home.”

Janice looked down at the earth and noticed that it was raining. The cracks in the earth were coming together and the rain in her eyes was beginning to dry; she spoke to the earth for the last time, “It’s time to leave.” She looked up at the skies, saying, “Release my soul to forgive those who I have wronged and those who have wronged me, so we may see the light of day.”

She walked away never to return with the same mind set to begin a new life.