Anastasia Milko
A little Turkish boy with a wooden stick
Can, overwhelmed with this metaphorical explanation, stand in silence, not knowing how to pick something else from the artist’s speech to underestimate or contradict but couldn’t find anything. And he also felt a blurred affection that spooked away the fear of a stranger in a child.
“I see, he raised the head and spent a long time staring at the man’s calm face. “Well, you lied about God, what is your justification for this Mister?”
“What an inquisitive boy you are!” the artist exclaimed, throwing his dirty with colors hands high. “Here I must confess to lying”
The boy straightened up, ready to carry the palm of victory.
“I should have told ‘our Lord Jesus’ and not ‘my’, I wasn’t very attentive to my words when faced the pain of your stone, yet I never lied, boy. And now, if you let me, I would like to go back to work while the light is good.”
Chapter 3
A seed of knowledge. May 22
It was early in the morning, Can’s bed was put along the sunny side of the room and he got used to waking up with the first rays touching his long and curvy lashes. The family had only one alarm used by mother to set time when she was busy baking, father woke up at the same time every single day to be fully prepared for Fajr. Morning Prayer became an essential part of his life. It was somehow easier to imagine Mr. Yussuf forget to drink a cup of morning coffee or even brush his teeth than neglect one of the five prayers during the day.
Can was up even earlier this particular morning, still a little confused by the quarrel he overheard late at night. The boy stretched in bed mumbling a simple prayer for his brother. It was not a custom for Can to pray at all, he had never fully understood who this God was and why he never heard his father when it came to Kerem. He paid the honor to God, attended the mosque when needed with the family, but never felt anything toward the mighty creature his father was so afraid of.
Can got up and approached a small spotty window gazing at the empty streets for a long time, recalling a peculiar dialogue with the artist. The artist told him about love being God, and that people will never be able to satisfy the thirst they have without Jesus. Who, as he believed, was a real testimony of loving God. That Jesus was the Lord himself having come to our world to safe us all.
As he gazed at the disappearing shadows, Can saw a striped gray stray cat watchfully cross the road with its tail raised and bristled. Was it afraid of something? Can was about to open the window to call for the cat when out of the sudden a bigger monster of a cat sprang upon the first tiny grayish kedi. Guttural meowing sounds were a slap in the face of the morning silence. Can felt a freezing sense of fear when his witty mind made an analogy between the poor tiny cat being beaten so severely and his own brother Kerem. His Kerem was just a teenage boy alone in a big crowded city where anyone can get lost forever leaving no trace at all, becoming just a faded memory for those who once knew them.
Nobody seemed to notice the noise. Was there anyone who could help that skinny cat and his brother?
Suddenly a peculiar thought came over the boy. The Bulgarian artist told him that even parents are not able to love their children as much as God does, that people are deeply loved by Jesus and they need just to believe in his grace and ask for forgiveness and help. And our prayer will never pass unnoticed, especially given by the heart full of love and acceptance. Can reasoned for a second whether he should pray for Kerem since his dad certainly did it anyway and it was in vain.
“Maybe I need to ask this Jesus for help”, Can didn’t know much about him, and he was still uncertain about him being God, but maybe, just maybe, he could at least try, there was nothing to lose anyway.
“Jesus, I beg you to watch over my brother. You are said to be a very loving God and the one who really cares, so please forgive me my many mistakes I have already made and help my brother to come home safe. He is not bad and you love him more than my father, that must be very much indeed, I suppose. I will pray you every time I hear the calling, so please Jesus, help him”.
He finished his praying, opened the eyes and saw no cats on the street. Only tiny pitches of little birds filled the air.