Some love tale I got from a friend. It shows just a snippet of Christ‘s love to the world. Really touching. Set in Nigeria (West Africa)
I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day by day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs towards the sky.
I have a brother who is three years younger than me. On one occasion, I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which was in vogue among girls my age. So I stole 5ocents from my father’s drawer. Father had discovered about the stolen money right away.
He made me and my brother kneel against the wall as he held a bamboo stick in his hand. “who stole the money?” he asked. I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said, “Fine, if nobody wants to admits, you two should be flogged!” He lifted up the bamboo stick.
Suddenly, my younger brother gripped father’s hand and said, “Dad, I was the one who did it!” The long stick smacked my brother’s back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on with the momentum of the bamboo whip on my brother till he almost lost his breath.
After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, “You have learned to steal from your own house now. What other embarrassing things will you be possibly doing in the future? You should be flogged to death, you shameless thief!” That night, my mother and I hugged my brother. His body was full of wounds from the torture but he never shed a single tear.
In the middle of the night, all of a sudden, I cried out loudly. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, “Sis, now don’t cry anymore. Everything has happened.” I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit what I did.
Years gone by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday. I will never forget my brother’s expression when he protected me. That year, my brother was 8 years old and I 11.
When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province. That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packets upon packets of cigarette.
I could hear him discuss with my mother, “both of our children have good results, very good results?” Mother wiped off her tears and sighed, “what is the use? How can we possibly pay for their tuition?” At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of father and said, “Dad, i don’t want to continue my studies anymore, I have studied enough”
Father swung his hand and slapped my brother across his face. “Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? even if it means i have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you both to school till you’ve both finished your studies!” And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money.
I stuck out my hand as gently as I could to my brother’s swollen face, and told him, “a boy has to continue his studies; if not, he will not be able to overcome this poverty we are experiencing”
I, on the other hand, had decided not to go on with my studies at the university. Nobody knew that on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few worn-out clothes and some uncooked beans. He sneaked to my bedside and left a note on my pillow; “Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will send you money”. I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.
That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old.
With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying 50kg cement bags on his back at a construction site, I managed to get to the third year of my study at the university.
One day, while I was studying in my room, my room mate came in and told me, “there is a villager looking for you outside” why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dust, dirt, cement dust and sand. I asked him, “why did you not tell my room mate that you are my brother?” He replied with a smile, “look at my appearance. What will they think if they know I am your brother? won’t they laugh at you?”
I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother’s body. And told him with a lump in my throat, “I don’t care what people would say! You are my brother no matter your appearance”
from his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, ” I saw many girls in town using it. so, I think you should also have one” I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried.
That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old…”
After reading this story, I thought, how much more love does Jesus show to the world and yet we reject him? If this girl rejected her brother, I doubt he’ll return to her or even call her his sister. But God never gives up on us, even when we’ve messed up and our life’s shattered, he fixes up our messed up lives and repairs our broken hearts and lives. What an extraordinary display of true love and affection?
We cry when we are dumped or rejected yet there’s one whose arms have been stretched out, calling your name for too long and we just won’t give in but we give in to temporary love. Why don’t we try this everlasting love offered to us by the creator of true love?
- The Prodigal’s Brother (revivalandreformation.wordpress.com)