by Steven Hunt
“But if we tend to only believe what we see, how do we gain faith?”
“That’s what faith is, son. Believin’ in somethin’ we cannot see. Every day we’re surrounded by miracles. All we hafta do is look. What causes the seasons to change? Or a bird to fly? How about a child’s birth? I know scientists have developed all these explanations about the reasons of changin’ seasons, birds flyin’, and childbirth. That just tells me we have become too smart for our own good. We have become a species that bends theories to match our needs. We’ve stopped relying on our Creator. These things have been happenin’ since the beginnin’ of time. They’re miracles, plain and simple. I don’t care about the earth’s rotation, the heaviness of air, or…well, you get my point. Those are just methods of how they happen, not the why. We accept ’em as fact ’cause we see the miracles with our own eyes every day. The miracles of night turnin’ into day, of rain and snow waterin’ the crops, of new plants pushin’ through the dirt that very first time; these have become common and we have learned to expect them. We no longer think of ’em as miracles. If we think of ’em as miracles—if we think of our lives as living miracles—our faith would grow where it needs to be.” Ezi again touched the single mustard seed. “And we need to fully believe—with everythin’ we got—in order to have the faith enough to fill this little seed.”
“What happens if we think we have enough faith, but when we command that mountain to move, it doesn’t?”
Ezi shook his head. “Then we don’t have enough, do we? No sir. We lie to ourselves into thinkin’ we have enough faith when we really don’t.”
Teddy was familiar with lying to himself. He rubbed the battered palm of his free hand against his pants.
“The trick’s to believe without question. Without any doubt. I know that’s hard ’cause of the way we bring up our young-uns, but we hafta somehow get passed all that. Wouldn’t our faith be stronger if we taught our children from their very first day that they could move mountains and wither trees? Of course it would! They would believe it. But with each step forward we hafta take four steps back. We can teach our children about faith in our homes and in church, but we can’t in school no more. Evil has wormed its way into the government. They conspired to keep our children ignorant of the power in the Truth when they banned prayer in the schools.” Ezi seemed to stand straighter, his voice sounded stronger. The tip of his branch-cane no longer touched the ground or supported him.
With a new twinkle in his eyes, Ezi continued, “Another step back comes from society. We can’t teach our young-uns ’cause people are too busy workin’ two jobs, runnin’ errands, and maintainin’ social obligations. We’ve a world full of people who don’t realize the true power that has been given to us as believers of the Truth. These children haven’t experienced the power that’s been given ’em by the Truth, so they live with doubt building in their hearts and minds, unaware what they’re missin’.” Ezi shook his head. “Society teaches ’em not to believe what they can’t see.”
“I respect your opinion, Ezi, but I can’t see where this is going. I think I understand what faith is, but you haven’t said how I get it or how I keep it. This whole lesson-thing is becoming a waste of my time. So, unless you can tell me how I can obtain a greater faith, maybe I should go and just accept my fate.” Teddy admitted Ezi’s enthusiasm and passion were contagious, much like Uncle Bud’s had been. But he saw himself among those who couldn’t believe unless he’d seen it with his own eyes.
“That’s fool’s talk, son!” Ezi roughly raked the seeds from Teddy’s palms before gently returning them to the plastic sandwich bag. He tucked the bag into his shirt pocket. “I guess you ain’t ready for that, yet.” He snatched the plastic buckets from Teddy, tossing them by the door. “We need to start with somethin’ simpler. What would your answer be if I told you this house will be painted today?”
Teddy shrugged. “I’d say good because it needs to be painted in the worse way.”
Ezi nodded. “What happens when a brush is dipped into paint and then smeared on a wall?”
“The wall turns color. Is there a point to this? Even a first grader could—”
“Now isn’t that faith? You have seen houses get painted in the past, I’m sure, and you know that by wipin’ paint on a board, it turns colors, right?”
Teddy nodded. This was not getting him any closer to defeating the depression or returning home to his family.
“But what did you do the first time you held a paint brush? Did you know that by spreadin’ the paint the board would change colors?”
“No, I guess not. But I was only five years old.”
Ezi smiled his toothless grin. “But someone told you that would happen and you had faith of the end result. Right?”
“Yes, of course. I always trusted my Uncle Bud. He never had a reason to lie to me.”
“You didn’t question the result?”
“No. I never questioned him.”
Ezi place a hand on Teddy’s shoulder. “Then why don’t you believe about the power of faith? About the mustard seed? Who better to tell us somethin’ that we can truly believe than God Himself?”
Ezi continued. “We achieve faith through belief. Those beliefs are reinforced by actions. So which belief that we’ve discussed this morning can be supported by action?” He paused but didn’t wait for Teddy to answer. “Paintin’ the house, of course. Now is the time to test your faith.” That same crooked smile filled Ezi’s face.
“But I don’t want you to just paint the house. No sir. That would only get my house painted and it wouldn’t teach you nothin’. I want to test your faith. To help you grow it. Nurture it like a new plant. So, here’s what we’re gonna do. It’s been a long time since this old house has received a new coat—my old hands just can’t handle it anymore. If I remember correctly, it took five gallons of paint to completely coat this house ten years ago. It’s a small house, you see. But we’re gonna do it with only two gallons. But you gotta believe it can be done, son. If you don’t have faith, you’ll fail, and I’ll have a house only half painted.” He chuckled.
Teddy felt his mouth drop open. “You want us to paint this entire house with only two gallons? Impossible!” he asked when he recovered.
“It is with that attitude. You must believe! Close your eyes.”
Teddy gave him a look of disbelief.
“Go on. Do what I tell you. Close your eyes.”
Teddy eased them closed.
“Did you ever play sports?” Ezi asked.
Teddy nodded.
“Then you know that one of the proven techniques before a game is to picture in your mind the entire game. Play by play. This builds confidence and faith in the player’s ability. Usin’ that same technique, I want you to picture paintin’ this house with only one gallon of paint.”
Teddy opened his mouth to object. Using two gallons would be impossible, but only one would not even come close to covering the entire house. It may not even paint the front wall.
Ezi continued before Teddy could say anything. “No talkin’, son. Just imagine. You must believe it can be done. If you imagine only usin’ one gallon, think how much easier it’ll be usin’ two gallons.” Excitement filled Ezi’s voice.
Teddy sighed. In his mind he saw himself painting the house a refreshing yellow color. Why a canary yellow, he didn’t know. He took his time, one stroke at a time.
After ten minutes, he opened his eyes. Ezi stood before him leaning on his branch-cane. “Well?” he asked.
Teddy’s heart lightened as he said, “I did it. I don’t know how, but the entire house was painted with only one gallon.” His voice sounded as excited as Ezi’s had been.
Then, like an alarm clock going off in his head, the doubt returned. His heart sank. “But it was only in my mind. I can imagine anything in my mind.” He said, his shoulders slumping.
“Stop it!” Ezi said. “Push that doubt out. It ain’t got no place in your mind and certainly no place i
n my house. As long as you hang on to it, you’re only defeating yourself.”
Teddy stared at Ezi. The old man actually believed what he was saying and, for a brief moment, Teddy almost believed it too.
“There’s one way to find out, son. To prove to yourself. We need to test your faith. You’ll find brushes and paint out back.” Ezi motioned with his thumb toward the back door.
“Aren’t you going to help? You did say we.”
Ezi smiled. “Didn’t you hear me say that my old hands can’t handle it? When I said we, I actually meant you.”
****
Painting the small dwelling took all day and didn’t go as he had hoped. The weather refused to cooperate as the temperature dropped during mid-afternoon, hovering just below freezing. A thin layer of ice settled on the top of the enamel, forcing Teddy to stir the forest green paint every few minutes. The bristles of his brush froze more quickly than the paint in the can, making the coat glob in clumps on the house instead of spreading smoothly. The darkening sky threatened to dump a batch of new snow, forcing Teddy to hurry.
When he began the job, Teddy felt good. His mind was clear as he concentrated on building his faith and remembering all that Ezi had said. He hummed with energy as he noticed the quantity of paint seemed to be lasting longer than expected. Excitement took over him as he began to believe he would actually be able to finish the house with only two gallons.
But as the day grew long, his mind re-explored the problems of his past, swaying his thoughts away from faith. The cloak wrapped him like a mummy, increasing the tension as his mind wandered. And, of course, along with the cloak of depression returned the fog of confusion, bringing with it doubt and selfishness.
Only one thought held him on task and kept him from throwing the brush down and walking away. His father had taught him to always do his best at everything he did and to never quit a job once he started. No job was too small. His simple assignment of painting Ezi’s house was no different.
He finished as the darkness of his past fully engulfed him. New plans had been formed that didn’t include any more mustard seeds, painting, or sleeping another night on a cramped sofa. Failure thrived and had taken roost in his life. He saw no reason to change now.
Even if that meant he would die.
He couldn’t see it, but he’d fully returned to the dark place.
15
Onto Ezi’s porch Teddy dropped the two empty paint cans and threw the ice-crusted brush on top. Dusk had overtaken the daylight as drops of green paint splashed on the porch, promptly freezing and dotting the wooden planks with colorful moons and semi-moons.
He didn’t care. Nor did he attempt to clean up the splatters. “I’m done. Now I’ll be leaving.”
“Leavin’? Now?” Ezi struggled from a rickety rocker on the porch where his eyes had followed along with Teddy brush stroke after brush stroke. Two cups and a pot of coffee sat on a small table next to the chair.
“Yes, now. I don’t understand why I’m here, and I was crazy to believe I could meet the deadline. I might as well spend the last few days of my life doing what I want.”
Ezi limped to Teddy. “I don’t think that’s very wise, son.”
“I’m sure you don’t, Ezi. If I leave, you won’t have anyone to do your work for you.” As soon as the cutting words were out of his mouth, Ezi’s face contorted as if he had been punched in the gut. He hobbled closer to Teddy until they stood nose to nose. “Is that what you think, son? That I’m shuckin’ my duty onto you? That I’m makin’ you my slave? Tell me how a man who’s given his life as a servant for mankind can supervise a slave? Wouldn’t the servant also be in service to the slave?”
Teddy didn’t answer. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t know what to say.
“No, son, I ain’t enslavin’ you. I couldn’t if I wanted to. Even with the vast history of slavery in this country there ain’t no possible way that I could place myself above another human being. It ain’t in me. No sir. What I’m tryin’ to do is help you with a very important lesson. I’m tryin’ to make you a better man. I tried teachin’ you the easy way, but you would have none of it. Sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way, you see.”
Ezi backed away from Teddy, turning to his rocker. “So, tell me, if you’re so fired up ‘bout leavin’, why did you finish paintin’? Why not leave when your mind was made up? I’m sure you came to that decision a spell ago.”
Teddy stood with his shoulder square and his head held high. He’d just been challenged by Ezi, and he needed to show he couldn’t be pushed around. “Because I never quit something I’ve started. To honor my father’s memory, I intend to follow his example.”
Ezi sipped his coffee, replacing the chipped mug on the table before locking eyes with him. “You never quit, huh?”
“Nope.”
“It looks to me that you’re quittin’ right now. Are you willin’ to throw away everythin’ Christy has done to help you? You know, son, schedulin’ these lessons cannot be done overnight. It takes careful plannin’. You said your father taught you to never quit. Wouldn’t he be proud?”
The air sucked out of him. Aren’t you proud, Dad? Mandy’s words that night had cut a bleeding wound in his soul. Now they punished him. Haunted him.
Christy had twisted his words against him, and now Ezi was doing the same. Why was he so important that they continued to push him toward these lessons? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?
He had wounded Ezi. He could see the pain in his teacher’s eyes. Not only had he shamed himself, he’d thrown dirt on his father’s memory, tarnishing it. What was wrong with him?
“Here, have a seat.” Ezi pointed his branch-cane to a straight-back, wooden chair. “At least let me show you somethin’ before you go.”
He owed Ezi that much. If he decided to continue with quitting—he detested that word now; it produced a bile taste in his mouth—he could walk off into the night, forgetting this ever happened.
Despite the cold, Teddy sat.
Ezi’s eyes stared at the wooded area across the pasture. A small smile formed on the old man’s face. “Don’t watch me. Watch there.” He pointed his branch-cane to the field.
“What’re we watching?”
“Shhh. Just watch. You’ll see.”
Teddy focused on the wooded area, seeing nothing that he hadn’t already seen. Soon the night would arrive in full, making everything—or nothing—difficult to see. Minutes seemed to waste into hours as he waited.
The sun had replaced the gray clouds that had unleashed wet snow flurries only hours before. Now as the sun struggled to maintain its place as the star of the sky, the colors of dusk evolved into a rich golden hue, portraying everything from the top of the trees to the freshly painted shack in a lucent glow. Pure and without defect, the sunset produced a staggering display of unrivaled appearance against the mountainous backdrop. Why hadn’t he ever taken the time to watch a sunset before? Had he really been too busy or had that just been an excuse? Teddy watched in amazement as he tugged the collar of his jacket around his throat. A gentle northern wind announced its arrival, chilling his day’s sweat. He inhaled this new air deep into his lungs, filling them before slowing blowing it out.
Fawns and deer of every size eased out from the trees, unsure if it was safe to venture into the pasture. They moved as one, slow and steady at first, until Teddy counted twelve deer frolicking in the field.
Flocks of birds sprang from the safety of the trees, dancing circles in the wind until joining the deer in the pasture.
Teddy saw two coyotes near the edge of the clearing. The wild canines eyed the birds and deer, but did not attack. Instead they played and chased each other as if they had been transformed back to their puppy days.
The animals were soon joined by a large, brown bear and her small cub. Momma bear and her cub pranced and romped at the south end of the field without any indication they had noticed the coyotes, birds, or deer.
For a few fleet
ing moments all were content to play and eat in peace.
As the final beams of light faded, the animals returned to the safety of the woods, leaving Teddy and Ezi alone on the porch.
“That never gets old.” The darkness clouded Ezi’s face, but the tone of the man’s voice told Teddy he was smiling.
“I’ve never seen anything like it before. Words cannot describe it. But, why didn’t the coyotes and bears attack the deer or birds? They were easy prey. I’m not sure if the deer even knew the coyotes were that close. It would’ve been a slaughter.”
“The deer and the birds ain’t got no way to store food or clothe themselves like we do, especially throughout the winter. They must find their food and eat it right away. They don’t have the luxury of havin’ leftovers. They can’t just pop a frozen dinner in the microwave. They ain’t afraid ’cause they trust the Truth to provide for ‘em. They don’t concern themselves with things like problems or troubles. They have faith the Truth will watch over ‘em.
“Sure, sometimes the coyotes and the bears attack. That’s the way of nature. But never in this pasture. This place is sorta a safe haven where all the animals are free to search for food without fear of being another animal’s dinner. I’ve never seen a deer or bird killed here. Never in my seventy-plus years.” He shifted toward Teddy. “Now, isn’t that a better way to live?”
“Hmm. But how do the coyotes know this is a safe place? How do the birds and deer know? It’s not like a sign has been posted at the edge of the forest, declaring this field a safe zone. Even then, the animals can’t read.” It was as if the birds and deer were protected by an invisible shield.
“I don’t know. I can’t explain everythin’ ’bout the Truth ’cause I don’t rightly know. I only know how it is.”
“There must be some sort of barrier or something around here to discourage the coyotes and bears.” Teddy said as he strained to examine the tree line. He realized even if there had been a barrier of some sort he wouldn’t be able to see it since night had fallen.