The young boy was an only child
and lived with his parents on a Western Kansas farm. His
childhood was generally a happy one, and although much of
the time he played alone, he had many imaginary friends who
were his constant companions. He was a great lover of books,
and after he learned to read, books became his constant
companions. Books transported him far from the Kansas
prairie and introduced him to many kinds of people and
places.
Books enhanced his imaginative
powers and contributed to his awareness of the power of
ideas. Many of the books which he read were written from a
Christian perspective. Faith became a powerful force in his
life. The Bible was read at home and at school, and he never
missed church and Sunday school. His church and community
placed great emphasis on personal salvation. Much was said
about the need to be ready for the Second Coming of Christ.
Sermons often vividly portrayed the fate of those who would
be left behind, and films were made to dramatize the fate of
these unfortunate ones. Stern warnings were given and people
were exhorted to have "assurance of salvation." This then
is the background for the story of one dark, spring evening
in 1946.
The boy and his parents were
seated around the dining room table. Each was reading. The
kerosene lamp stood in the middle of the table, shedding its
glow on the table but only dimly lighting the rest of the
room. Occasionally someone would move slightly as pages were
turned, but no words were being spoken. The boy was totally
engrossed in his story. After a while he looked up from his
reading and to his surprise, found himself alone. The other
chairs were vacant and the books were left on the table. His
heart began to beat faster as he frantically looked around
in the house. It seemed impossible that two people could
have left the table and gone from the room without his
knowledge.
He had often had similar
experiences. Sometimes when he came home from school his
parents were not there. Sometime when he awakened at night
he would listen with baited breath for his father's familiar
snore, which would assure him again that all was well. But
this was different. They were, after all, right there beside
him one moment, and in the next moment they were gone. This
was exactly like the statement he had heard so often. "One
shall be taken and the other left." Only this time two were
taken and he was left.
He began to imagine what it
would be like for someone who had been left behind. Where
should he go, what should he do? He knew that a great
tribulation would follow and that unspeakable things would
now befall him. He had even heard of terrible battles where
the blood flowing in the streets would be up to the horses'
bridles. But first, he had to make sure that it had really
happened. He had to look for his parents.
It occurred to him that there
was a possible explanation for his parents' sudden absence.
He knew that every night someone had to go and close the
brooder house where the little chicks were kept. This was
usually done as part of the bedtime routine, and often all
three of them would go out to make the short walk across the
garden, past the windmill, to the edge of the pasture. Since
the chicken house was rather far from the central farmyard,
it was rather vulnerable to raids by skunks or even coyotes,
and it was important to make certain that all was secure for
the night.
This night was very dark. There
was no moon and the stars were brilliant in the heavens. He
thought maybe his parents and all the other Christians in
the world were passing through the galaxies, rapidly
ascending to a better, more secure world. As his eyes
adjusted to the dark, he could just make out the windmill
and the garden fence. Then the brooder house became visible,
and with his heart in his throat, he hurried toward it. All
was quiet, except for the night sounds of the insects. Not
even the dog came out to join him. He wondered if the dog
had sensed something strange and had crept under the porch
to hide like he often did during a summer thunderstorm. His
last hope faded and complete despair enveloped him.
But wait! He thought he heard a
voice. He stopped to listen. Yes, they were there, in the
brooder house, inspecting the little chicks, lingering
longer than usual. He walked more slowly, trying to calm his
beating heart. He came to the door and looked at them in the
dim lantern light. Everything was so ordinary. They were
speaking in low tones, so as not to arouse the chicks. Their
concerns were earthly, and they would have thought it odd
that the young boy who had come to seek them had just looked
eternity in the face and found it terrifying.
He looked at them and waited for them to come out. After the
door was securely shut, they walked back through the
darkness. There was really nothing to talk about. It was a
beautiful evening, the chicks were safe, God was in his
heaven, and all was right with the world.
(copyright Vern Zielke)
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