Stories from
Heaven's Library - Vol. 13
For Young and Old
Featuring:
The Four Magic Cloaks
"Don't Do It, Man! Don't Do It!"
The Ripple Effect
THE FOUR MAGIC CLOAKS
In the 11th century, when the Byzantine Empire ruled the eastern Mediterranean nations, the rising power of the Turks posed a constant threat to their territories in the Middle East.
By the 12th century, invading Seljuk Turks from Baghdad had gained control over much of Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey). As invading Muslim forces clashed with the Christian people of Anatolia, God prepared the heart of one, a young girl, who would change the course of history for her nation.
Moonlight
My story takes place in the land of Anatolia*, long, long ago. My parents called me Moonlight, because, they said, my eyes had a special and soft shine to them. I was brought up in a loving family, where the simple pleasures of life were precious.
When I was 17 years old, our peaceful region was invaded. My parents were taken captive, and I was taken to the city of Konya, to the sultan's* court. It was devastating to see my parents being led away by the soldiers, yet there was something that kept me from fearing, something that my captors were not able to suppress.
I had a strong faith in God, and I loved my dear King Jesus more that anyone else on earth. I had learned, from the time I was a little child, that all things work together for good to them that love the Lord. So although I was very distressed, I knew that my dear Jesus was going to work everything out, and that if I stayed close to Him, He would take care of me.
As I was led away with my hands bound behind my back, I silently prayed for my beloved parents, that my Jesus would keep them safe through this difficult time.
It was late when we arrived at the palace. I was led into a small room, and soon I heard the key turn in the door, and the steps of the soldiers disappearing down the long hall. Then I was alone in the dark and quiet night. I was tired, and I could do nothing else but lay down on the hard bench, and say a prayer for my loved ones and for safekeeping through the night. Then I fell into a deep sleep.
That night I had the most beautiful dream--or was it a dream? Out of my deep sleep I felt a soft touch on my forehead, and as I opened my eyes I saw the most beautiful sight. There stood a dazzling, tall, handsome angel. He had large outspread wings and golden hair. I looked into his beautiful loving eyes, and though he didn't utter a word, I could hear his deep, soft voice clearly saying, "Moonlight, dear, you have been given a special mission to fulfill for your kingdom, and I am to be your helper and guide. Though there will be times of great turmoil and difficulties, don't fear. I will give you four cloaks of protection, that you may avail yourself of in time of need."
Suddenly in his right hand appeared four shimmering cloaks of light. On the first one was embroidered in golden strands the word "Love." On the second one, "Praise and Thankfulness." On the third the word, "Obedience" and on the fourth, "Faith."
I reached out my hand to take these cloaks, and the angel looked deep into my eyes. Speaking to my heart, he said, "There is one thing you must do before the power of these cloaks can take effect. You must take the first step." And then he was gone.
* * *
When I woke up the next morning, everything looked so much brighter. I could hardly wait to see what was going to happen next. I looked around the room, almost expecting to see the four cloaks hanging over the chair; it had all been so real. Though I did not see them, somehow I knew that this had been more than a dream. I remembered how my father had always taught me that "faith is the hand that reaches out to receive," so I believed that the cloaks would be there whenever I needed them; I just had to reach out and take the first step.
I was suddenly jerked out of my thoughts by the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door swung open and in stepped a plump woman, well along in years. She said she had come to prepare me to be brought before the sultan, along with many other young women, so he could choose who he wanted to have as a personal slave in his court. The woman said the sultan wanted someone pleasant to the eye, someone who could bring him his clothes, food and drinks, and be there whenever he called.
The woman looked as though she felt sorry for me. She walked with tired steps, and I could hear her deep sigh as she turned and bade me come to the women's quarters. I silently prayed for an opportunity to witness to and comfort this overworked and unhappy woman.
I looked around the big room they called the "Women's Quarters." About 30 other young women were being groomed to appear before the sultan for his choosing. I was bathed in perfumed water and dressed in a silken gown. My face was painted, and my long hair arranged in an elaborate style. When I looked in the large oval mirror, I could hardly recognize myself and felt rather uncomfortable in all these fancy, unfamiliar trimmings.
Then I was led, with all the other young women, towards the sultan's throne hall. We approached two massive wooden doors, beautifully and intricately carved. Two guards opened the doors and someone announced our arrival. The throne hall appeared enormous, and I felt most uncomfortable walking through the long aisle with all eyes staring at us. Many of the young women with me looked fearful and nervous. I wanted to give each of them a comforting word or touch, but I had a strong feeling that it was best to stay in line. I prayed for the Lord to take control, and instantly felt more at ease.
Finally, my turn came to stand in front of the sultan's throne. A soldier motioned for me to kneel down. I didn't dare lift my face until I heard the sultan's rough voice commanding me to stand up and slowly turn around, so that he could see me. I stood up and slowly turned around, and I could hear people quietly talking amongst themselves, commenting how pretty I was, and how beautiful my hair was. This came as a surprise to me, as I had not been brought up to look at myself in that way. The sultan looked at me with approval in his eyes, and whispered something to his counselor who was standing next to him.
I was then led out, still not knowing whether the sultan had accepted me or not. The soldiers led me back to my little room, where I quietly waited to see what would happen next. After a short while, the older woman returned to my room and again bade me follow her. We walked through many long hallways until we came to the women's sleeping quarters.
Though the other young women were all dressed in fancy attire with their hair done up in beautiful styles, they still appeared to me as little girls who were scared, and who missed their parents just as much as I missed mine. We didn't speak much to each other; we just sat there, quietly waiting in the dimly lit room.
I asked one of the girls, who seemed to have been there for a longer time, why everybody looked so unhappy in this palace. The girl looked too afraid to answer me and walked away. I walked up to her and softly rested my hand on her shoulder, and assured her that she didn't need to be afraid of me.
This pretty girl looked searchingly into my eyes, and after a moment of silence she quietly whispered, "Because we never know which one of us is going to be next! When the sultan gets tired of someone, they're not allowed to appear before him anymore, and we never know what happens to the ones who get sent away."
I couldn't help but draw the fearful girl into my arms. I stroked her hair, trying to comfort her. I silently prayed that I would have an opportunity to tell each of these dear girls about our wonderful King Jesus, about His unending love and care for each of us, and how He always takes care of His children and works everything out for good, as long as we love and obey Him and stay close to Him.
Before I was able to think another thought, I saw the sultan and his two counselors step into the women's quarters. His eyes searched the room for a moment, and stopped at me. He walked over to where I was now standing, along with all the other girls, and in his brusque voice said, "Moonlight! That is your name, isn't it? I wish to see you tonight at the dinner banquet, my counselor will escort you. Be ready!"
A chill went down my spine as I looked up at the unpleasant man. He was tall and in his mid-sixties. He had piercing green eyes and a demanding tone in his voice. For a moment I was tempted to be fearful, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Visions of my dear parents being taken away flashed before my eyes, as I thought of how this man was responsible for taking me from their side. Then I heard a soft whisper in my ears, "Remember what I told you, Moonlight! All things work together for good!" It was my guardian angel, assuring me that everything was going to be all right. With renewed faith and strength, I proceeded to get ready for the evening banquet.
The First Cloak
The large banquet hall was lit up with torches along the walls, and big hanging lanterns. Music was playing, dancers were moving across the floor, and in every corner servants were offering drinks to the guests. There was a heavy smell of incense in the air, mixed with the aroma of sweet wine and strange foods.
I was seated close to the sultan's footstool. From the corner of my eye I could see that he looked on me with great approval. During the banquet I often felt his eyes coming back to me, and again I felt a chill going down my spine.
Another set of performers were called out from the back room. Colorfully dressed, beautiful girls were dancing; men were wrestling and magicians were blowing fire out of their mouths. I looked around the large banquet hall and I suddenly felt very, very alone. Everything was different and no one looked like my people. These strangers who had made their home in our country spoke differently, they dressed differently, they acted differently. Everyone looked like they didn't have anything important or serious to think about in their lives--they all seemed so frivolous, so foolish to me.
Suddenly I hated everyone around me, and I especially disliked the big man whose eyes were constantly dwelling on me, as if I were a meal for a hungry dog. There was not a single friend around. Just then, I felt as if somebody wanted to tell me something, and again I heard the soft voice of my guardian angel speaking into my ear, "Watch out, Moonlight, watch out! These thoughts and feelings are poisonous. The Enemy of your soul is trying to defeat your mission. Now is the time to put on the first cloak of protection."
I knew nobody else could see it, but I saw my beautiful angel handing me the cloak whereupon was written with golden letters the word "Love." I obeyed, and quickly put the soft cloak over my shoulders. I remembered how the angel had told me that I had to take the first step for the power of the cloak to take effect. What step should I take? I wondered. Again I heard the voice, "If you can just think one loving thought about anyone in this room, you will see."
I looked around, and began to notice each person there: The young man in the corner was trying to get the attention of some frivolous ladies around him. He was short and not so handsome, and none of the women paid any attention to him. I looked to the other side of the room and saw a young woman laughing loudly amongst a group of friends. Then I saw her turn her face, and quickly wipe a tear from her eye. I could see that she was not happy, and that she felt empty and in need of a real friend.
Oh, how my heart suddenly ached for these empty, unhappy ones. They were so lonely, though surrounded by people on every side; so rich in the ways of the world, but oh, so poor without real love and meaning to life. Then, by a miracle, I saw each of them with eyes of love.
But the sultan? How could I look at this man with loving eyes--this man who had spoken to me in such a rough, unkind voice; this man whose eyes were devouring me as if I were food on a plate--how could I look at him with eyes of love? I pulled the invisible cloak tighter around my shoulders and clung to it, knowing that this cloak was my only hope. I prayed a silent prayer, asking the Lord to show me what my next step was to be for the protective power of this cloak to take effect.
The evening went on with much noise and confusion. I turned around and looked at the sultan. To my surprise I saw a tired, worn man, and for a moment I felt compassion for him. I thought to myself how hard it must be for this man to always have to be part of this big show, day in and day out, year in and year out, with never a moment of quiet, never a moment of peace, never a moment of sincerity and warmth.
The Second Cloak
Later that night as I lay in my bed, tossing and turning, a bit of fearfulness was creeping into my heart. I was missing my loved ones, and feeling very lonely, wondering when I would ever see them again. What good could come out of all of this? I wondered. Then I heard the soft voice whisper again. "Here is the second cloak. Put it on!" I reached out my hand for the second cloak of protection, whereupon was written "Praise and Thankfulness." I quickly pulled the soft cloak around my shoulders. Then I lay back on my pillow, and peace entered my heart.
I began thinking thoughts of thankfulness and praise. How rich I was compared to these people! I knew the truth of God's Word. I had grown up with loving parents, a loving family that had taught me the true values of life. From the time I was young, I was surrounded with sincerity and love, and the simple joys of life. I had faith, I had hope, I had love. I had all the gifts of the Holy Spirit available to me--and I had a mission. I had no reason to be unhappy or hopeless, I had so much to be thankful for, so much to praise my Heavenly King for. And with that thought I fell into a blissful sleep.
I was woken abruptly by somebody shaking my shoulder. One of the sultan's counselors was standing by my bed. "The sultan has called you, and wants to see you in his chamber. He is very sick." It took me a moment to collect my thoughts and to realize where I was and what was happening. I had been sleeping so peacefully, and had been awoken out of such beautiful dreams, but somehow I knew that this was all part of my mission. So I jumped out of bed, threw a mantle around my shoulders, and followed the counselor into the sultan's chambers.
There he lay--the mighty sultan--tossing and turning in his bed, moaning and groaning as sweat was dripping from his forehead. He was obviously in great pain.
"You are here, Moonlight!" I heard the sultan softly mutter. "You were the only one I wanted to see. Last night at the banquet I caught a glimpse of your eyes--they were so soft and warm, and I saw something there that I have never seen before--and I could not forget it. The vision of your eyes was the only thing that I could think of. Come closer now, and let me look at you. I see there is something special about you, a special beauty, and it almost makes my pain cease."
I stepped closer to the sultan's bed, as I drew the cloaks of love and thankfulness tighter around my shoulders. Reluctantly, I looked into his pain-stricken eyes.
"What is this light in your eyes, Moonlight? Is it magic? Are you some kind of an enchantress?*"
"No," I said, "I am not, but I come from a magic Kingdom. My Heavenly King is a Magician, and there is no magic on earth that is greater than His power."
"Your Heavenly King, you said?" The sultan looked offended. "I am the king here! I don't want to hear about any other kings, do you understand?"
"I understand, my lord," I said. "But you asked me and I answered you. Don't you want me to be honest?"
"Yes, yes, of course!" the sultan said. "All my subjects must be honest. I will have no lying in my kingdom!"
The sultan looked away. It was as if he knew that he spoke only words--empty words. I thought about all the people I had seen in the banquet hall the night before, about the words I had heard there, how people had been talking amongst themselves--the unkind words they spoke, and how they mocked each other, everybody putting on false fronts to fit in.
"Oh, nonsense," the sultan blurted out, interrupting his own silence, "I don't understand any of what you are saying! I do not believe in your magic or your magic King, or any magic Kingdom!" The king suddenly screamed out in pain and doubled over, holding his chest, "My heart, my heart!" he gasped.
I looked around for the counselor, but everyone had disappeared. "Where are your helpers?" I asked the sultan.
"None of these people really care for me," he said, with more desperation in his voice. "When I am weak and sick like this, and don't have any strength, they just run off and talk behind my back. None of them truly care for me, not even one."
I looked at this pitiful man, and was again struck with the thought of how unpleasant he looked, and how repelled* I was by him, so unbelieving and unkind. Why do I waste my time speaking to this man whose ears are closed, whose heart is closed? I will leave as well. This is of no use. This could not be part of my mission.
The Third Cloak
As I got up and turned to go, I clearly heard the whisper in my ear again, saying, "Yes, Moonlight, this is part of your mission: to show this man that the Lord's love is true. Didn't I tell you that love loves the unlovely, and casts a veil over countless sins? Stay by the king. Cool his burning forehead; speak soothing words to him, and then you'll see the Lord's magic take effect before your eyes."
Then I heard another voice, but this voice told me that I could not care for this man, that I could not stay by his bedside and hear his mocking words--I couldn't, I was tired. This voice reminded me that this was the man who was responsible for taking me away from my family, and having my loved ones imprisoned.--How could I love him?
Then, again, I heard the whispers in my ear. This time I knew it was my guardian angel, and I clearly recognized the difference between the sweet loving voice of my guardian angel, and the smooth, sly voice of the Enemy who had been telling me to give up. The Enemy of my soul was out to defeat this mission.
"Take the third cloak; put it on," the voice said. I eagerly stretched out my hand and received the third cloak whereupon was written "Obedience." I pulled the cloak over my shoulders, and as with each of the cloaks, I knew that now I had to take the first step. By now I had learned this simple truth, that the moment I obeyed and took the first step, I would receive the grace and strength to obey and take the next steps. I pulled the other two cloaks tighter around my shoulders, and I felt the love pour through me. I was thankful that I had been called to be a tool in my Lord's hands in this way.
I stayed by the sultan's bedside all that night, cooling his burning forehead, speaking soothing words to him and singing soft quiet songs, and so he fell into a deep and relieving sleep.
Then again I heard the whispers of my guardian angel, softly coaching me to take one more step of faith--to pray for the healing of this sick man. Just then the king tossed in his bed. He turned around, opened his eyes and looked straight at me. He moaned and groaned and cried out in pain while pressing his hands on his heart. Again, I was tempted to waver. How can I pray for this man who has such disbelief in You, Jesus? Again I heard the whispers, "Have I not told you that the prayer of faith shall save the sick?"
Yes, I thought, I could pray for the king, but would he be healed? I knew that the only kind of prayers that work wonders and miracles are the prayers of faith. What if I told him that the prayer of faith would heal him, and he didn't get healed? What would he think about everything that I had told him about the Heavenly Kingdom and about our Heavenly Lord's Words of love and truth? What would happen? Oh, this was so difficult!
The Fourth Cloak
I heard the whispers in my ear again, "The prayer of faith shall save the sick and the Lord shall raise him up. This is part of your mission. All things work together for good to them who love the Lord." At that moment the king again cried out in pain. He looked as if he might die. Again I heard the voice saying, "Here! Here is the last cloak, put it on--the cloak of faith."
I turned around, reached for the spiritual cloak and pulled it over my shoulders, and again I knew I had to take that first step. I turned again towards the king, opened my mouth, and with great effort I said, "Oh, great Sultan, may I pray for you? Can I ask my Lord and King to heal you?"
"Why would He heal me? I don't even believe in Him," the sultan responded.
"He would heal you," I said passionately, "because of my love for you."
"Your love for me?!? Why do you love me?" asked the sultan.
"Because my Heavenly King loves you. His love is divine. It never fails, it has no boundaries. May I pray for you now?"
The sultan turned his suffering eyes towards me. "There is that soft light in your eyes again! Yes, you have something that I've never seen before. You have something in you that I really want, Moonlight--something magic, something real--and you care for me. Maybe there is something about that Heavenly Kingdom and your Heavenly King. I don't have anything to lose. Yes, please pray for me."
I pulled the cloak of faith tighter around my shoulders, laid my hands on the dying sultan's heart and prayed. "Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for Your promises. Thank You for Your love. Thank You that You love us in spite of our mistakes, in spite of our lack of love. Dear Jesus, please touch and heal the sultan's heart. Make it whole and fill it with Your love and Your Spirit. Help him to become part of Your Heavenly Kingdom, and show him the way to rule his kingdom with love. Dear Jesus, I pray that You will give this man a new heart, that You will take away this heart of stone that he has, this sick and unloving heart, and replace it with a new heart--one full of Your love, Spirit and compassion. In Your name, I pray."
With these words, the sultan relaxed. He sank back into his pillow and with much wonder and surprise in his voice said, "The pain is gone! My heart it feels new! I'm healed! I don't understand it. I feel so different. I feel warm, I feel light."
He looked into my eyes, and with a warm voice said, "Dear Moonlight, I want you to meet my son. He is a little older than you, and he has been heartsick for a long time. I've searched and searched, and found many lovely young ladies among my people, but I haven't found anyone that suited him. He is such an unhappy young man. We have never been close, him and I, because he has often tried to convince me that I should rule my kingdom with a tender hand.
"My son spends most of his time in the stables, and he told me to learn a lesson from training horses. He said that you cannot train a horse with a heavy hand, but that you have to win his confidence, and gently and lovingly teach the horse to love and trust you. He told me to be like that with my people, but I never believed him. I thought he was weak, and I feared that he would never make a good king. But now--after this night, and the magic healing of my heart--I'm starting to believe that my son is right. Yet, he is unhappy, because he doesn't have the full answers, which I know that you have because of what has happened tonight. Will you meet him?"
I remembered having seen glimpses of the young prince around the stables and in the garden with the children. He certainly was delightful in appearance, except for his sad and unhappy face. He had shining hair and was tall and strong. I remember thinking a couple of times that I would have liked to meet him, hoping that perhaps he would be kind and different from the rest of the people that surrounded this place, but the opportunity had not come to me yet.
The king pulled a bell-string, and after a moment a servant appeared in the doorway. "Send for the prince!" ordered the king. The servant quickly turned and disappeared in the hallway. Shortly after, the young prince appeared in the doorway. His black hair was shining like his dark eyes, and his face was comely*, but oh, so sad. I longed to be able to put a smile on it.
"You called for me, Father?" the young prince asked. "What is it you would have me do?"
"My son, I want you to meet Lady Moonlight. She has revealed to me the most miraculous, wonderful secrets, and told me the most life-changing truth that I have ever heard. She prayed to her Heavenly King for my heart--and it has been healed--and more than healed: I believe that I have been given a new heart--a much softer, more caring and loving heart, and that--you must agree--is magic, and nothing less than a miracle."
The young prince, with a surprised look of unbelief, said with a sly smile, "Yes, Father, that would be a miracle of magic."
Gathering my courage, I spoke to the young prince. "Dear prince, I sat with your father through the night when he was very sick, and told him about my Heavenly Kingdom, my loving Jesus, and His magical powers of love. Have you ever heard about Jesus?"
"Jesus?" the prince replied. "Yes, a stable boy once told me about this Jesus, but it is not lawful to speak of Him, and this boy was expelled from the kingdom because of his stories. But here you are, sitting by my father's bed and speaking of these same things? You must be a very brave lady."
"I myself do not have much courage," I replied. "But my Heavenly Father has given me magic cloaks of love and faith, so that I could tell you about His great love and His Heavenly Kingdom.
"Your father has told me the reasons for the great distance that there is between you and him, how you have tried to convince him to rule his kingdom with love and care. You are right, my dear prince. Forced obedience is not real obedience, and in the long run, the kingdom built upon such allegiance* will crumble."
The old sultan, who moments earlier had been in such pain, was now sitting up in his bed with a warm look on his face. He looked at me and asked with excitement in his voice, "Moonlight, does this mean that your Heavenly King and His powers of love can heal my broken kingdom just as He healed my heart?"
"Yes," I said, turning back to the prince. "He can." Since the prince had walked in the room, he had not taken his eyes off my face. He listened intently to every word I spoke, and his face, too, now wore a radiant smile.
The young man, who had so reluctantly come into the room, now walked up to his father's bed and kneeled down beside it. "Dear father," he said, "this is the happiest day in my life. I have not only regained the love of my father, but I know that our kingdom will be governed by love and care from this day on."
The two men looked deeply into each other's eyes. The old sultan drew the young man into his arms and said, "Son, please forgive me. I do not know how to express in words how sorry I am for all the suffering I've brought upon both you and my kingdom. But now, with the help of the Heavenly King of love, we can try again. We can make a difference. Will you help me?"
The young prince looked at his father with a warm smile and said, "Yes, Father, I will." He then stood up and walked over to me and, taking both of my hands in his, looked deep into my eyes. "Moonlight, I would not have believed in the love you declare, had I not seen the miraculous change that this love has brought to pass in my father's heart. Thank you for being willing to love us enough to bring us this message of love and healing, in spite of everything that we have done to your home and loved ones. This truly proves to me that your Jesus is truly the King of love. From the time I first heard of the power of the love of Jesus from this stable boy, I wanted so much to see this power, but I could not understand how it could be true. I had a hard time believing that a love like that existed, but now that I have heard you speak, and I have seen the sincerity in your eyes, I can only believe. Can I also have this healing power and forgiveness? Like my father, I have been hard, bitter and unforgiving. Will He forgive me?"
This time we all knelt down together, as I thanked our dear Lord for His love and mercy and His healing powers. Oh, how wonderful it all was! I could see so clearly that it had been worth it all. I thanked the Lord for sending me on this mission, and for giving me the strength and the help that I needed to accomplish the task He had given me to do. I praised Him for my Heavenly guide who whispered softly in my ear in my times of need. God's strength was made perfect in my weakness. When I couldn't take another step or say another word, Jesus was there with His love and His power. I thanked Jesus for the wonderful cloaks of protection that He had made available to me. I knew that without them I could not have fulfilled this mission.
Do you know that you can have these magic cloaks of protection as well? You just have to reach out your hand by faith and receive them, and then wear them faithfully. Pull them tightly around your shoulders and take the first step, and you will see miracles happen in your life. Would you like to hear the happy ending of my story? Or maybe I should say the wonderful new beginning
The king immediately released my parents, who were happy to be able to return to their home, and overjoyed to know that I was well and safe. The next night another banquet was to be held, and the sultan asked me to pray for his strength and anointing as he gathered the members of his court together in the great hall--and there he asked their forgiveness for his wrongdoing. With a broken voice and tears in his eyes he confessed his faults to his people, telling them that he had been a hard ruler. Then he went on, with shining eyes and an excited voice, to tell them about the miracle that had happened to him--the healing of his heart--and how he had seen the light and now understood that his kingdom could only be ruled with love and understanding. He then came down from his throne, and with tears running down his face, he went along the front row from person to person and warmly embraced them, asking their forgiveness.
Then he asked me if I could lead them all in a prayer, so that they, too, could receive the love of God in their hearts. Everyone bowed their heads in prayer, and then the most wonderful banquet that had ever been held in that kingdom took place! The prince later became my loving husband, and together we helped rule the kingdom in love.
* * *
And so my mission had been fulfilled, the mission for which God had chosen me. For what reason He chose me above others I do not know--but He chose me to be the one to soften the heart of the sultan and his son. I became one with my new people, learned about the Muslim culture, and the conquering Muslims of this region came to know the saving power of Christ, following the example of their leaders.
The historians do not know this--they could not know this--for the sultans never declared their faith in Jesus openly, in order to keep the peace with their neighboring friends and allies*. All history will tell you is that somehow the Christians and Muslims of Anatolia seemed to be able to live together in peace. Yet, these same people at first did all they could to persecute us Christians and they even killed some of us. It was only the Lord, Who, through His Spirit, and by working through a simple channel like me, was able to change the hearts of these people--and mine.
God, in His Own way, showed me that these people were also His children, and He loved them just as much as anybody else. He had died for these people--just as He had died for me and my people. But I had to learn this, and I thank God that I did, for those years as the wife of the young sultan were very happy years for me, and God blessed our region with peace.
"DON'T DO IT, MAN! DON'T DO IT!"
"Hey, Ay! Wait for me! Don't walk so fast!" Somsak, nearly out of breath, caught up with his friend Ay, who'd been walking quickly, his head hanging low, in the opposite direction of their usual route to their school, located in a middle-class Bangkok suburb. "Where are you going?!"
"Oh, nowhere!" Ay muttered under his breath, upping his pace so that Somsak practically had to run to keep up with him.
"Hey, what's the matter, Ay? Did something happen?"
"Oh, go away! Leave me alone!"
"But you're going to be late for school, and you know how the teacher gets when you don't show up on time! Come on, Ay! You were almost suspended last time!" Somsak urged his friend, as he grabbed Ay's arm in an attempt to slow him down.
Ay jerked his arm away, stopped dead in his tracks, turned around, and looked his friend straight in the eyes. "Get away from me, Yoong! I'm not going to school--never again!"
Somsak, nicknamed Yoong by his close friends, was shocked by the look in Ay's bloodshot eyes. He seemed to have been crying. "Ay, please! Tell me what's wrong!" Somsak pleaded. He tried to put his hand on his friend's shoulder, but Ay pulled away.
"I can't tell you! Now leave me alone!" With that, Ay ran off and jumped on a bus as it began to move. Somsak had never seen Ay like this before, although lately he had been acting quite strange.
* * *
Somsak was jerked back to reality when he heard someone call his name. Realizing that the teacher had asked him a question, he helplessly looked to the desk next to him, where Ay usually sat. It was now empty, and there was no one to help him with the answer to the teacher's question. He was summoned to the front of the class and gingerly received a slap on the hand with a ruler for not paying attention. Humiliated, he slouched back in his chair, wondering what was happening to him. Things just hadn't been the same since his best friend had disappeared, and that was over three weeks ago.
On his way home later that day, a couple of toughies approached Somsak. They were from the school gang, and he and Ay never wanted to have much to do with them. If they were not at war with other schools, they were harassing other kids who didn't want to participate. Ay was always good at keeping them away, but now Somsak had to face them alone. Ever since Ay left, they'd been after him. He'd been trying to avoid them the best he could, but today there was no way around them.
"Hey, Somsak! Where're you going? Where's your buddy, huh? Come on! What'd you do to Ay, huh?"
"Ahh, get away!" Somsak snapped back. "You know he disappeared. No one knows what happened to him!"
"You don't, but I do!" Moo taunted. "He ran away from home because his mom left him and his father drinks. My dad knows everything!" Moo's dad was the police officer who'd checked into Ay's disappearance.
Somsak cut him off and shrugged his shoulders as he tried to walk past Moo and his three cronies. "You're so stupid!" he muttered. "Everyone knows that Ay's father drinks."
But Moo wasn't about to let him get away that easily. Blocking Somsak's way, he said: "Hey, I've got something for you! Try this! It'll make you feel a whole lot better!" In Moo's outstretched open hand lay a small white pill. Somsak knew all too well what it was. Many kids in his class were into it. They said these Yah Bah pills helped them study better. "I'll give it to you for 35 Baht," Moo whispered, afraid his cronies would overhear him offering these drugs so cheap. After all, he sold it to them for much more than that, and he wouldn't want to lose his profit.
Somsak hesitated. Encouraged that he hadn't refused right away, Moo nudged him again. "Come on! It really does make you feel a lot better, and will help you pull up your grades in class. Ever since Ay's been gone you've been doing lousy! Try it tomorrow before class. Satisfaction guaranteed!" he grinned.
Ay had always told him to stay away from this stuff, but then, look what happened to him: He surely wasn't any better off for it, Somsak thought. Pulling some change out of his pocket, he took the pill and walked off without saying another word. Moo turned around and watched him go. A sly smile crossed Moo's face. "We've got him, guys! Come on! Let's go!" The four of them trudged off to the bus stop, laughing and joking triumphantly.
* * *
"Mom, Dad, I'm going out for a while," Somsak called out to his parents. The door slammed behind him.
"Don't be back too late!" his mom called after him.
"Okay, Mom!" he shouted back through the closed door. Boy, I'm lucky! Somsak thought to himself. I've got a mom and dad who care about me.
Ay used to like coming over to Somsak's place, and had told him many times how he envied him. But then Ay had stopped coming because his dad had beaten him up a few times for coming home late.
I don't really blame him for running away, but I wish he'd asked for help. Maybe he could have stayed at our place for awhile, Somsak mused.
As he neared Ay's house, not far from his own, the music and loud voices coming from that direction didn't leave much to Somsak's imagination. It was another one of Ay's father's drunken parties. -- The very thing Ay had run away from.
No use looking for Ay at home, that's for sure! Somsak sank down to the curb, and put his head in his hands. "Oh God! Please! I don't know what to do!" he sighed. "Please help me find Ay! I've got to find him, or I'm going to take this stuff!" He fingered the little pill in his pocket.
Just then, someone sat down beside him. Somsak looked up--incredulously--into Ay's face! "My God! Where have you been?!" he gasped. As he grabbed Ay around his shoulders, a great feeling of relief swept through him. "Am I glad you're back!"
Ay looked tired and dirty. "I got a job at the docks, unloading," he started. "I just couldn't stand this anymore!" he said, looking in the direction of the drunken party going on down the street. "I tried to come home a few times, but " One look at Ay's face was enough to know why he'd changed his mind. "Anyway," Ay shrugged, "how've you been? I missed you, you know!"
Somsak told him what had been happening at school, his encounter with Moo that day and his decision to try Yah Bah. "I was going to take it before school tomorrow unless I had found you," he said.
Ay turned pale. "Yoong, don't do it! I saw a kid die from that stuff. I worked with him at the docks for awhile. Every night he took that stuff and offered it to me, too. He seemed to be doing okay with it until It was awful! He was screaming for a long time, and then he just lay there real still. Overdose! God, am I glad I found you! Don't do it, man! Don't do it!"
With that, Ay got up and said he had to go.
"Where are you going?! Come home with me. My mom will let you stay with us."
Ay looked at him with a strange smile on his face, "I'm all right now that I got to see you. I've actually got a nice place to stay at now "
Disappointed, Somsak hung his head. "Oh come on, Ay," he pleaded. But as he looked up, Ay had disappeared. Bewildered, Somsak got up and looked around. "Hey, where'd you go?!"
* * *
The next day Moo approached him in the school yard. "So, did you try it?" he grinned.
"No way! I didn't have to. I saw Ay last night, you know, and he told me what that stuff can do to you!"
"You saw Ay?" Moo gasped, as a pale look came over his face.
"Yeah! What's the matter? Why are you looking like that?"
"But that's what I was trying to tell you yesterday! My dad told me they found Ay's body a few days ago. He's dead, Somsak! It was an accident at the docks."
Speechless, Somsak stared at Moo's pale face, then turned and walked away. Confusing thoughts ran through his head. But how?! If Ay's dead, how could I have possibly seen him last night?! Could it have been Ay's spirit? He remembered Ay's sudden appearance next to him on the curb, and how quickly he had gone, and how, with that strange smile on his face, he had said that he was okay. It was almost as if he was happy. Had God heard his prayer, that he would take the pill unless he could find Ay? He could suddenly hear Ay's warning again, ringing in his ears, "Don't do it, man! Don't do it!"
Somsak never took the drugs*, and graduated from college with honors. Moo, after hearing the full story about Ay later on, stopped dealing drugs. He and his cronies joined Somsak in warning their peers about the dangers of getting involved in drugs. Somsak's story has since been told to many, and Ay's words are still being passed on today:
"Don't do it, man! Don't do it!"
As for Ay, he was never seen again.--After all, he'd found a nice place to stay!
THE RIPPLE EFFECT
Just an ordinary day. Faces come and faces go, and I guess I'm pretty much the expert when it comes to faces. I'd been at the Smokin' Salami for over thirty years by the time this day rolled around--this seemingly ordinary day, which was to turn so unexpectedly out of the ordinary!
It was nearly six p.m., and all the regular six o'clockers were wearily strolling in, tired after yet another day at the grind*. Being behind a bar has a sort of psychiatric* quality to it, and on many an occasion I've found myself getting an earful from a disconsolate* soul as they drowned their sorrows in the bottle. As I stood in silence, drying the clean dishes, I couldn't help but wish I had more to offer these miserable souls who seemed to have so little to live for!
It was the middle of the month--a time that was always especially rough for business. The end-of-the-month spending spree that followed paycheck time had worn off, and reality had dulled the pocketbooks of most of the clientele*. In that crucial week or two at the center of the month, it was a struggle to go from one day to the next.
This month was particularly bad, and things were starting to look serious. I had put all my life's savings into getting our little family diner* going, and during these economically strapped times, I was having to pull double- and triple-shifts, and let some of my regular help go until a time that I could better afford to pay their wages.
That's why I found myself behind the bar again on this very auspicious* day. Buried in thought as I was, I hardly noticed the familiar pinging of the bell that announced another customer entering. But when I looked up, there they were. A woman -- must have been in her mid-thirties or early forties, a boy who seemed to be in his preteen years, and a girl some years younger. They marched up to the bar with a certain air of authority, and the two kids scrambled gleefully up on the high bar stools. It looked like they weren't used to being in a place like this, as everything about them seemed to breathe out a sense of delight and expectation. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was definitely something unusual about them.
The woman had started to speak now, inquiring for the manager. Upon hearing that I was the man she was looking for, she launched into a tale of missionary work. "We are on our way to India to dedicate ourselves to full-time work of helping others and telling them about Jesus."
I turned my incredulous* gaze for a moment to the two younger ones, who had not yet said a word. The boy had been looking off at the plaques on the wall, but as he saw me glancing his way, he turned right around and caught my gaze with a warm smile that made my hair stand on end.--It was so accepting, so warm. It sent me reeling, dragging my mind with it, back to memories of love and of God that I had long hidden from myself.
My life washed over me like a flood, and for some reason, I felt my eyes starting to fill with tears. I hardly heard the rest of the explanation of their work, though I did manage to focus in on the brochures that they showed me. When the woman finally presented her humble request for a meal for her small family, I had no choice. Forgetting all about my own strapped state of finances and seeing only the three full smiles that now beamed before me, I whipped out a menu and told them to settle down and be comfortable, and that they could order anything they wanted. "On the house," I told them.
The next forty-five minutes passed all too quickly. I tried to stop by their table, as I desperately wanted to talk with them some more. But being the busy evening that it was, and having to double as waiter, cashier and bartender, I couldn't do much more than shoot a sidelong glance their way from time to time. I saw them hold hands and close their eyes at the start of the meal. I strained to hear the words they were saying, but all I could make out was an occasional "Jesus."
The next time I looked their way, they were deep into a lively discussion, laughing and gesturing wildly. The young girl caught my eye as I stared at them. Then she waved, motioning towards the plate, "It's very good!" she called out cheerfully. "Thank you!"
My heart warmed. I hadn't felt so good in a long time, not since the Smokin' Salami had first been set up, and my own kids were small. How I had loved to see them running around, chasing each other through the tables! But now they were grown and had long since moved out of our small town. When my wife died, three years before, I felt like the nails were laid in my own coffin.
Before I knew it, and well before I would have been ready for it, the small family had finished their meal and were lined up in front of the counter. As the children bubbled forth their thanks, the woman fished around in her purse, and pulled out some brightly-colored papers, which she put on the counter, and slid towards me. The boy had a pouch around his waist, and said something to his mother which I couldn't make out. When she nodded he pulled a small leaflet out, and put it in my hand.
"Here, sir," he said. "This is for you. It's a message for you from Jesus! And there's a special prayer at the end ... " His words trailed off as he noticed that several customers were lining up behind them.
"Please read it, sir!" said the girl. "It will make you very happy!"
I thanked them with a grateful smile, although as they turned and walked slowly out of the restaurant--and my life--I would never have let on how heavy my heart really was, and how I yearned for them to be able to stay just a few minutes longer. I contemplated running after them and asking if they wanted to stay the night, but I realized how foolish that would sound. What did I know about them, or them about me? I wearily raised my eyes to the next customer, but as I did, I once again caught sight of the scrap of paper that had been left in my hand. I put it down next to the cash register, but I felt it drawing me like a magnet. As I went mechanically about my business of pouring drinks and tallying up numbers, my mind was busy taking in the incredible message that lay there before me.
Here, apparently, was a message from the almighty God Himself--and He loved me? I absorbed every written word into the pores of my being. I did not just pray the prayer at the end: I inhaled it; I swallowed it whole and it instantly became part of me.
I let out a small chuckle, and turned to look at the large mirror that comprised the back wall of the bar. I felt like I had swallowed a lightning bug. Why, I even look different! I shook my head in amazement, wondering what had happened to me. It was just a chance encounter, but how different I felt as compared to a little over an hour ago!
Suddenly the door swung open, and a small crowd of teenagers stepped inside the doorway. Eager to share my newfound joy with these first ones to happen across my path, I threw a beaming smile in their direction.
"Come on in, good folks!" I called out merrily. The rest of the customers turned in my direction, surprised, and then quickly turned their heads back towards each other. I smiled as I pictured them each babbling amongst themselves, trying to figure out what could have caused such a sudden and obvious change in my character.
The teenagers were hesitating at the door. There were two girls, thin and gaunt*, with streaked hair, short skirts and colored stockings on their legs. Three or four guys were with them, and their faces showed a mixture of menace and despair. After pausing on the threshold a few moments longer, one of the guys nodded his head and the group strode in, walking directly up to the bar.
I put down the dishtowel and looked the leader of the group right in the eye. Suddenly I knew that I should not have encouraged them to enter. I could see the fellow reaching his hand towards the pocket of the thick leather jacket, which he was wearing despite the warm, humid air. The girls looked nervously around the room, and several of the others were also fingering protruding lumps in their pockets.
Swallowing hard, I stretched my hand out towards the leader. Surprised, I suddenly realized that I was clutching the little leaflet that I had been given. "Here," I pulled out my best attempt at a smile. "This is for you. Read it!"
Startled at the authority in my voice, the young man picked up the tract with his left hand. His right hand stopped short of his pocket, as his eyes scanned the paper. He smirked and started to crumple it, when I said, "No, wait! Read just a little more!"
He had no idea why he was listening to an old bartender, but for some inexplicable* reason, he kept reading. Seconds turned to minutes, and before long the young man had reached the end of the tract. As he looked up at me, I was shocked to see that his eyes were misty.
"Where'd you get this, man?" he asked gruffly.
"A lady and some kids came by, not more than an hour ago. They gave it to me. It's good, isn't it?"
"I don't know, " the fellow shrugged. "This here paper may just have saved your life, man!" He handed the paper back to me, and turned to the rest of his gang. "Let's get out of here," he said quietly.
As they all headed for the door, I looked over the silent faces of the customers who were watching me. After only a couple of seconds, I knew what I had to do. I dashed out from behind the counter and followed the group, who had just reached the door. "Here," I said, breathless at the unusual amount of exertion, and holding the tract in my outstretched hand. "Here, please take this with you. I've read it, and I ... I would like you to have it." My words were directed at one of the girls, who was the one closest to me, but they were all watching me.
"Sure, whatever," she said. She took the tract, and they all turned and left the room in silence.
As the door closed behind them, the diners breathed a collective sigh of relief. A small pattering noise was heard, which grew in volume until I turned to face a room full of people, all smiling, all standing, all clapping ... for me!
Embarrassed, I dashed for the kitchen, where I buried my nose in some pot until the racket had died down.
It was a full ten minutes before I dared to venture out again, and by the time I did, everyone seemed engrossed in their business again. I smiled, touched, despite my initial abashed* reaction.
As I settled back to drying the glasses, a slender woman approached me. She seemed to be in her early forties, and her thin wire glasses enhanced a beautiful pair of shining hazel eyes. I moved towards the cash register, as she had come from a single table in the corner and I assumed that she was ready to pay her bill. But she shook her head, and instead pulled a tablet and a pen out of the small purse that she carried with her.
"Mr. Witchita?" she asked.
"Yes," I said questioningly, wondering what this was all about.
"I'm a reporter with the local Herald, and I specialize in real-life character pieces. I was extremely touched by the little exchange that I just witnessed, and I wondered if I could have a few minutes with you."
I was flabbergasted, but couldn't say no. We made a hasty appointment for the following morning, when business would be slow or nonexistent. As for the moment, business was booming in ways I could scarcely comprehend. I couldn't remember any time in the past 10 years when I had had more than five or six sets of customers eating at the same time. But now the place looked so crowded, I had no idea what was going on.
Then my thoughts drifted back to the smiling threesome, and I tossed a questioning glance upward. Could it be that I had somehow, in my blind desire to help them out, brought upon myself this seemingly bottomless barrel of good fortune? Several times throughout that evening I paused to wonder, and shook my head in amazement.
* * *
As the days went by, I was only to find out more about this strange new bottomless barrel I had tapped into. The meeting with the reporter the next morning--Sandra, her name was--went very well. A fair-sized article appeared in the Herald the following day, with a photo of yours truly sporting a toothy grin, and the large "Smokin' Salami" sign in the background. The headline read "Salami's Smokin' Every Night." On a whim, I had looked through the little stack of colored papers that the missionary woman had given me, and of all wonders, I had found another copy of that well-beloved tract. This I had given to Sandra, and she liked it so much that she had it printed right alongside the article.
Well, things went from better to best. Sandra and I started dating, and before you would know it, we began to get serious, and now we're engaged. Think about that!--What are the chances of a man my age, nearing that three-score mark, getting hitched again?
I also had an interesting visit a few weeks later from a young girl, who I recognized as one of the girls with the colorful stockings whose coming had marked such a turning point in my restaurant's career. Over a margarita*, she confided to me that she had read that paper I'd given her over 10 times before the others had pried it away from her. But by then, she knew that she had to quit the scene she was into.
I offered her a job--I needed a good waitress anyway, with the way my business was still booming--and she accepted on the spot. Now she's one of the best girls I ever had working for me. After the article broke, business started booming, and my little diner saw more customers than it ever had before!
By the time of Sandra's and my engagement, I was completely out of debt, had been able to hire back all my old employees, and had even set up a little "Gospel night" on Thursday evenings before the dinner crowd would come by. Sandra ran an advertisement in her column. We found out that this town has lots of people like me, who want to know more about the God we profess to know and love. So we're getting it together and digging into God's Word--the Bible, as well as additional materials I received when I wrote to the address I found on the back of one of those leaflets--and doing what we can to share it with others.
So that's my life--and how different it has become, since those beaming smiles were cast into the pond of my day.--And the ripples still go on!
(Definitions included throughout booklet:)
* Anatolia: see map on page 2
* sultan: ruler of a Muslim kingdom
* enchantress: a woman who practices magic
* repelled: to find something distasteful
* comely: pleasing in appearance, attractive
* allegiance: loyalty, a commitment to serve
* allies: nations that have agreed to help each other in time of war
* drugs: harmful and often addictive substances that can cause changes in behavior, and negatively affect the central nervous system
* at the grind: a laborious and dull routine or job
* psychiatric: dealing with mental and emotional distress
* disconsolate: sad, gloomy
* clientele: a group of customers
* diner: a small, usually inexpensive restaurant
* auspicious: marked by good circumstances
* incredulous: surprised
* gaunt: bony
* inexplicable: difficult to explain
*abashed: uneasy, embarrassed
* margarita: a cocktail made with tequila, an orange-flavored liqueur, and lemon or lime juice, often served with salt encrusted on the rim of the glass
Text in picture bubbles:
Page 12:
Hey, Ay! Wait for me!
Page 13:
Hey! I've got something for you!
Page 15:
I was going to it unless I had found you.
Yoong, don't do it! I saw a kid die from that stuff!
(End of file.)
Copyright (c) 1998 by Aurora Productions