[prose] A Father's Love

((This is one of my all-time favourites. Enjoy!!))

The young child lay in the darkest corner of her room, sobbing into her pillow. Though she hid under her blanket, the thick sheet of wool gave no warmth to her icy heart. Grief had claimed her, and she was numbed to all else. Beside her lay an open journal with a half-written entry, a weathered guitar and a handphone. Writing, music and friends, these used to be her source of comfort, but now, all else failed, and she was left alone in the dark.

How could this happen, she asked the ceiling pointlessly. She had spent half her life and all her energy creating this perfect world, this personal utopia had that caved in overnight, leaving her as broken as her sanctuary. Her fingernails clawed her chest as though trying to rip away the pain from her heart. Tears flowed free as the rain, but they could not wash away all that has happened, or would happen. Let me die now, she screamed soundlessly into her pillow. Sorrow had hijacked her body; she would leave this world of pain and loneliness now. Nothing could change her mind...

Except...

The door opened so soundlessly that the girl, so absorbed in her pain, did not hear, nor did she see the light-source, a single candle burning bright, chase away the blackness that swallowed her. He who held the candle walked into the room with such grace He seemed to glide. He set the candle at her bedside and sat on the edge of her bed, stroking her once glossy, smooth hair. He sighed; it hurt Him to see His child in pain. The little girl looked up with an expression of mixed joy and surprise on her face wet with tears.

"Papa!" she cried, releasing the pillow she was holding on tightly to and flinging herself into His open arms.

"Papa... I... Oh Papa! It hurts so much!"

"Hush, child," the Father whispered, His voice gentle as the summer breeze. "I understand. It's alright, it's alright."

"But Papa! How can You know? How can You understand?" The child's eyes brimmed once more with tears, two fat crystal dewdrops rolling down her cheeks.

"Trust Me, My child, I know. I have seen you suffer from afar. Now, precious one, will you be willing to let Me help you?"

In reply, the girl clutched her Father's shirt, her arms being too short to circle His chest. She held nothing back, her Father's shirt slowly growing wet with tears. He held her tight in those arms that never grew tired of comforting His children. His breath, sweet and warm, melted her hardened heart, thawing the numbness in her body, giving her strength and love...

Finally the girl looked up to gaze into her Father's kind eyes, her heart lightened, her small frame so filled with joy she hardly dared to open her mouth for fear that the happiness within would empty out of her.

"Thank You, Papa! I feel better now..." She managed a small smile, her eyes alight once more with joy.

He smiled in return and gently pushed her back onto her bed, tucking her in under the blankets.

"You're welcome, dear child," He whispered, the words floating above her into the night air. "You're always welcome. I am always here for you. But now, rest well, my child."

He kissed her on her forehead, took up the still-burning candle, and left her room, pausing only to watch her sleep with a smile on her lips and utter peace in her heart.

"Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
- Matthew 11:28