Short Stories

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A young child walked among the children of the city one day and came upon a crowd. Small children, they were not at play but seemed to be soothing themselves in the shade of the buildings.

"What are you doing?" thought the child.

"Are you hurt?" asked the child.

"Yes, we are all hurt a little," said one of the children. "We were playing soccer and we all got bumped and bruised a bit. I am soothing my bruises, the others are tending to their bumps and scratches.

"I hope you are not hurt long," said the child and because their was nothing he could do he walked on.

A little way on, the child came across another group of children: orphans and fatherless, lame, maimed and blind. They were not playing either, but were singing and clapping to one another happily.

The child saw this and immediately asked his father in heaven why those that suffered most were freest.

"Father, those other children had no reason to be hurt and now they play with nobody, but these children had no reason to play and they are happy! Why weren't these children the ones who survived?"

And the Father answered.

The child understood the father... but at first he did not want to obey. He rathered to play. But, after what was to a man far too much searching over something so small, as the Father had commanded he went back to the wounded children and stayed with them while they were tending their aches.

"You will get well soon," the child said and he prayed for them.

Then, when the children were well the next day, the child introduced the first group to the better group and they all played together! The healthy ones were gentle and the needy ones were cared for.

But there was one child who would not come... would NOT come... for his leg was still a bit sore... so he said.

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