Khattu's belly grew day by day in her sorrow, as she weaved baskets for other fisher folk men in the inlet.
“Jati, you dive like a monkey!”
“At least I don’t sound like one, Khattu.”
SLAP! Jati laughed as he flew; back first off the Jetty, into the Arabian Sea, at the hand of the little girl.
“You’ll never change, Jati!”
He extended his hand to the youngster. “Help me out of the ‘blue waters.’”
“I know your tricks!”
They ran through the Mangrove forest to the Tidal Falls at Ghizri Creek.
"How is it you are always first Khattu?"
"You let me win every day.”
“I see that beautiful smile inside the veil. You know, your Father likes me," laughed Jati as he shimmied up the mangrove tree to throw breakfast down.
“I hear the sound in the sky!””
“It’s the flying dhow,” Jati moaned
“The white angel-faced man from India lands with gifts and lesson books,” Khattu dropped the mangrove fruit and ran back to the village.
“I don’t like those lessons Khattu. It’s against Islam.” Jati yelled.
The biryani wedding pudding was delicious.
“Jati, I’m happier than any one should be.”
“I love you more than my own self, Khattu.”
The roar was in the sky. Jati fished in his dhow alone in deep waters. No one went out that far for fear of capture by the Maritime Rangers from India. The flying dhow landed.
"What do you want white face?"
"I want to share how Jesus Christ took your wrongs upon himself to give you a relationship with Him."
"Go away from me. I've heard all your lies, every time I came to get a prize for myself. You’re a fool.
Go away white face. Don't talk to my wife either."
Pulling the plane away, the missionary saw Water Rangers coming.
"Jati, they're coming, get in my plane, I'll take you to safety!"
"No, I won't leave my nets and the catch. I'm paddling back."
"You won't make it..."
Jati languished in Indian prisons for eleven years, with no hope of going home. Then one day...
"Jati, is that you?
"Angel faced man?"
"Yes. I’ve been looking for you in the prisons.”
“They move us all the time.”
The white angel-face man kept track of Jati in the prisons. He came one day a week for 26 years to bring food, and share about the man Jesus, who brought spiritual food to men if they would receive it. In the seventh year Jati believed in his heart and trusted Jesus as his Savior and Lord. His life became one of prayer and commitment.
"Why did I wait so long?" He often wondered.
“The one true God has brought me to this hole to bring me to Himself.”
He was a prisoner content, for ten more years.
One day in his sick bed he knew death was upon him. The white angel-face had been gone many years.
"Get up old man! You've confessed to being a spy. You're free to go."
Stumbling through the streets, Jati came to a door, fell against it and, passed out."
"Where am I?"
"You’re in the missionary compound, Dohnavur. My parents work here."
"Three weeks. You had the fever."
Here Jati regained his strength, and began studying under the white-faced ones.
"Jati, it's time to go home!"
"Am I ready?"
"The Lord will show you."
The White-faced angel’s son took him to an old flying dhow, Jati knew from his youth. Tears rolled down his wrinkled old cheeks. They flew from the lake to the shores of the Urdu speaking people on the shores of the Sindh Coast. .
Being a husband again, and a father for the first time, was new to Jati.
"The creek beds are dry Jati, my love."
"Christ’s living water’s run deep, Khattu."
"The fish are all but gone”
"They’re all around us. We’ll never want for fish to catch again my love. We are fishers of men now. I hear the sound in the sky!”
“The son of Angel face comes every Sunday with lessons.”
“I’ll race you, Khattu!”
It won’t be fair.”
“You always let me win.”
“We’ll run the race, side by side, until there is no breath left in us, Khattu.”
“A foot race won’t take long, but a heart race will go on forever. Let’s go on forever.”
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