Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "It's No Use Crying over Spilt Milk" (without using the actual phrase or literal exampl (02/07/08)
TITLE: “How could it be?”
By dumi nkomo
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It all started 3 years before when a man walking through the dusty streets of the town had stopped at his corner shop and asked him to come with him. He didnâ€™t even understand why, but because so many people were following him, it seemed a noble thing to do.
As the days passed by more and more people joined the group. At the end of one working day this man chose to assign responsibilities. â€śYou will handle all financial matters from this point on,â€ť the man said. This was amazing, an opportunity he had waited for all his life. He thought to himself of how he was going to be seen by those who had laughed at him all his life. This was a chance to move away from that sorry shop and do something real. There was a great possibility of getting rich if he played his cards right.
The man was bolted bolt to the present when a baby rabbit hopped over him and quickly disappeared into the thicket. For a moment the thoughts of the past haunted him. After all those years could he still make it in life? What would the world say about him? Then he began to recall the sad thing that he had done.
One day as Jesus and His disciples had been walking through Jerusalem, the Chief Priest had made it known that He had to die. He was willing to pay whatever cost was needed to get rid of this man who was claiming to be the son of God.
Our friend saw another opportunity to finally pay off that debt he had so long worked hard to avoid. But would it pay off at the rate at which he was going? As if nature was not on his side, again the same rabbit jolted him to the present. What was with this rabbit and was it eager to get rid of him or remind him of the situation at hand? Suddenly it disappeared into the thicket again
As he slowly drifted back to the time he had returned the money, that hoarse voice started echoing in his mind, â€śYou sold Him out, not us. We canâ€™t take that money back, its blood money. Go and hang, go and hang.â€ť That thought drove him crazy and he screamed at the top of his voice, â€śHow could it be, how could it be?
He had sold out innocent blood and as pictures came flashing across his mind of a blood stained man, spat at, nailed onto the cross and a voice crying out, â€śFather forgive them, for they do not know what they do,â€ť he knew it was true. He couldnâ€™t take it anymore and quickly jumped to his feet, tied the rope on the branch above him and slowly made his way up the tree. He was doomed because at the time he could have gone back to say sorry, he had chosen to walk away. â€śHow could it be,â€ť he said, as he closed his eyes. Just then an irritated bird screeched at the top of her voice as if to say, â€śHow could it be that it had to end this way?â€ť Then followed an amazing silence. Surely how could it be?
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