There's a fine line... I hear the cops telling my father.
A fine line? What are they talking about? A fine line between hate and love? Between black and white? Between God and Satan?
“Sorry, Cyrus, but not much we can do to get your chickens back.”
My father is a proud man and I see the anger swell up inside him.
“Them chicken's is all I got. I sell the eggs at the market. I gotta feed my family.”
“I am really sorry sir, but it's your word against theirs.”
The cops are right. My dad's word didn't amount to much in these parts.
Without the chickens, we wouldn't have eggs for market, without eggs, we wouldn't eat.
My dad got really angry.
“You get my chicken's back!”
“Look here Cyrus, you can't make demands. We'll do the best we can.”
“Your best ain't good enough.”
I hear the cops getting louder. My dad is getting louder too.
“That man took my chicken's!”
“Cyrus, that man is a Roman. You can't just go around accusing a Roman citizen of taking stuff.”
“Why? Because I'm Jewish.”
I didn't understand what my dad was saying. I didn't know we were different. We didn't look any different than the Roman's.
“Cyrus, you could be put to death for accusing a Roman citizen. It's almost like treason.”
The cop was right. My dad could die for saying a Roman took our chicken's. I didn't want to accept the fact, but we are different. We're Jewish, they're Roman's . Their word is Law.
There is a fine line... a fine line between right and wrong, between good and evil. Between us and them... between black and white.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.