by C.L. Mozena
Saturday before dinner, out of the blue, one of his younger granddaughters, Kelly, asked him if he wanted to go to church with her and her mother. The question caught him off guard, even though he knew that Kelly and her mother, Teresa, went to church every week. He quickly shook his head. Steven noticed the brief look of disappointment on his thirteen-year-old granddaughter's face as she set his dinner on his board and headed towards the kitchen. He watched her go, wondering what could have sparked such a question. Steven had never been to church in his life. He didn't believe in God or in Heaven. He knew that death was the end, and that there was no life after death where everyone was happy all the time. He couldn't understand why Teresa wasted her time taking her daughter to church all the time.
Kelly repeated her question the following Saturday as she brought Steven his dinner, but he declined again. She asked him again the following weekend, and again the weekend after that. Steven declined each time, but she kept asking him. Four months later, Kelly asked him to go to church again, but instead of asking him to come Sunday morning, she asked him to come Saturday night for a play that the children were presenting. Steven's first great-grandson was in it, and the rest of the family was going, so he agreed to go as well. Steven expected some boring, churchy play, but he was wrong. The play was about a king, and how he longed for everyone in his kingdom to come to his feast. There were tables filled with food, and everyone was scattered around the room. When the king said it was time to eat, the people all found their seat and filled the tables. It reminded Steven of how the pieces of his puzzles were scattered when the box was dumped on his board, and how he had to put each piece in it's place. There was an empty table at the feast, and the king said how that table was supposed to be filled with people, but they wouldn't come. Those people didn't believe that there was a place for them at the king's feast. This made the king very sad. Steven thought about that red and yellow puzzle piece sitting in the shallow bowl at home, and how there wasn't a place for it in any of his puzzles.
The king then sent the children out into the city to tell everyone about how there was a place for them at the king's feast. The people were reluctant and didn't want to go, making up some excuse or another. Steven wondered why. He knew there was a place for them. He saw it. He knew that there was an empty chair for everyone, and that every person had a place at the feast, just like every puzzle piece had a place in the puzzle. How could those people think that they weren't wanted or needed? It was so obvious!
That's when it hit him. Steven suddenly realized that he was like those people in the play. He had felt like he was alone, like the world had forgotten him, when, in fact, he had been so caught up in his own situation that he had been declining the invitation to the king's feast. Tears streamed down his face as he watched the people finally give in and go to the king's feast. They were welcomed warmly by the king and the other guests, and shown to their places. After the play was over, the preacher stood up and spoke of the Kingdom of Heaven, and how everyone has a place there and could go, if only they would accept the invitation. Steven felt something pulling on his heartstrings, and he knew he had to speak to the preacher. He tried his best to speak what was inside him, but all that came out was groaning. He tried using his left arm to get his meaning across, but he didn't know any sign language. Seven began panicking, not wanting to let this opportunity pass him by.
The preacher's warm smile let Steven know that he understood every unspoken word and asked a few yes-or-no questions. The preacher then led Steven in a prayer; the first real prayer in Steven's life. He gave his heart to Jesus that night. Steven cried the entire way home, and long into the night. The next morning, Steven felt an inner peace that he had never felt before. He still couldn't walk or talk, but he wasn't miserable about it like he used to be. He thought about how his daughters had come together when he needed constant care, and how his condition kept the family together. He was overjoyed when his granddaughter, Kelly, walked into the house Sunday morning and asked him if he wanted to go to church with her and her mother. He eagerly nodded and groaned, and Kelly smiled, throwing her arms around him. Steven listened intently at church, taking in every word the preacher spoke.
When he got home, Teresa helped him to his spot on the couch, pulled a new puzzle out for him and dumped the pieces on his board, replacing the empty box under the table. He happily sorted the pieces of the brightly colored cartoon puzzle. It didn't take him long to realize that there was a piece missing. He frowned, looking all around him in case the missing piece had fallen off of his board, but he couldn't find it anywhere. Shrugging, he continued to put the puzzle together. As he put each piece in it's place, he thought of the play he had seen last night, and how each person has a place at the king's feast. He worked around the spot where the missing piece was supposed to go and thought of the empty table. He sighed when he finished the puzzle. It had a hole in the middle of the cartoon rabbit's yellow shirt. He searched again for the missing piece, hoping that it had somehow fallen off the board and was waiting for him to find, but he still couldn't find it. Thinking for a moment, he decided to look in the shallow bowl beside him where the stray pieces were put. The only piece in the bowl was red and yellow, the same piece he had found in a different puzzle. Trying it, he found that it fit, completing a red heart on the rabbit's yellow shirt. He smiled, knowing that he, too, had found his proper place.
Epilogue
Steven died only three months after he had seen the play and given his heart to Jesus. He was supposed to go to the hospital for a short stay, but the Lord called him home. His death weighed heavily on his family's hearts, and they wondered what they were going to do without him. Kelly had a dream a few days after Steven died. She dreamt that the family was having dinner together, as they always did. But this time, instead of being left alone on the couch, Steven was in the kitchen with everyone else, talking and laughing, sitting on a normal chair rather than in a wheelchair. She saw him grip a new tub of ice cream and easily pull the lid off with his right hand. He was no longer paralyzed or unable to speak. He was home.
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About the Author:
C.L.Mozena lives in southeast Ohio with her seven cats and one dog. She enjoys painting, taking walks, and writing (of course!).
She has many short stories published in the local newspaper and contributed into book collections of short stories by a group of local authors.
Miracles:
Lester’s Story
Shannon’s Story
Steven’s Story
Legend of the Irdisae
Connect with me online:
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Author Website