In His Image

It was still early as she went down the garden path.  Oh the conflicting emotions that filled her soul!  Just days before, she had seen evil personified as she watched a brutal murder take place in public, while people cheered and jeered.  Oh how she had loved that man!  The tears overflowed her eyes as she approached the cave where they had left him.  This was not a pleasant task that lay ahead of her, but it was one that she did for the one she loved, because he could not do it for himself. As she approached the place, two strangers questioned her as to why she cried so.  How could they be so cold!  First he was killed without mercy, and now they had taken and hidden his body so that she couldn't even give him a decent burial?!  "Please! Just show me where you have put him!"  She turned to hide the torrent of tears and through them saw another man standing a few feet away.  Maybe this man knew? He gently asked her, "Lady, why are ...

He sat there at the corner of the bakery in his motorized chair, waiting for his wife.  For so many years, he had been the strong one.  He'd worn his back out laying block, and working cement until his body just couldn't take it anymore.  But he did it with integrity and there were people far and wide that still wanted Erv to do "just a small basement" because of his reputation for quality.  I often watched him pick up his wife and children at the door of our small, country church, and if he had to wait for a few minutes for his wife to finish her chatting, he would talk with us young men/boys in a way that made us feel important.  After he had to quite concrete because the pain in his back became to great an obstacle for him to power through, he started trucking and was known far and wide for being an honorable trucker.  He even was chosen to drive the Christmas tree to Washington DC one year because of his exemplary character.  And then two accidents...