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Short Stories with a Message

A story of acceptance:

By John Raschick
10-21-2004

The Playing Boy
The little boy was playing one day in the woods as he did many days in the summer. One day he lost track of time and before he knew it, it was almost dark out, and came running home. This had happened many days in the summer. The boy would come home with droopy flowers, leaves, long grass strands that were longer than him, and dirty rocks, which were his gems, and other treasures. With these came a dirty face, shirt, and pants.

There were the eyes of one whom watched as he would come in and each time is in amazement that the boy never tired. The boy would tell of his day, upon an accepting lap and ear in the evening. His gifts were never turned away but always put in a place were all could see. Showing as trophies of great discoveries. Arms, ears, eyes always open to hear, hug, love and comfort.

Growing up
As the days grew into weeks, weeks into months into years, the boy grew. Through birthdays, holidays, happy and sad days, discipline days, through depression, loss, and gain in many areas
of his life, this great love and acceptance has always been there. He had gotten caught by the snare of being busy, all wrapped up into himself and what was going on with him. The ones that were always there seemed to disappear, the acceptance and love was no longer to be found. This was in fact the case because the boy had no time to give to that which he had at one time. The arms, ears, eyes were still there, the acceptance of him never moved. The door had been closed by his own business a long time ago.

Too Busy for Acceptance
Now it had come in time that he needed to have an open arm, to hold him, and busyness kept this away. He could not do that, there was no time for it. He needed an ear to hear him, too much to do, no time to take to talk. He needed eyes to see what had been done, not now though, later, too much to do. For the longing of the ones who had so missed this boy to hold, hear and see him, ached like a sore that could not get relief. Many times of reaching out to him came on his deaf busy ears, because his life was so rapped up in things that needed to be done. They waited, knowing there would be a day, and so they waited.

Now a Man
The boy now a man would jump quickly in and out of the lives of these ones that were open to him. His life was on a fast track and no stopping to see anything except the one thing that was most important to him and that was the never ending (DEAD LINE). One day he was in the sea of busy people, everyone had to be somewhere, and was seemly in a place that was
keeping them from being where they needed to be. This was in a fast food/coffee line. He was tapping his foot wondering why he was in line, waiting for a cup of coffee, when he should be on his way to the next thing that needed to be done.

In back of him he heard a faintly familiar topic. The conversation went on about thier little grandchild, how she played hard outside all day, and would bring home odd things of her day of discovery, and how that her mother is still doing the same thing, even in her busy life. Also how
she never let the busy life she had to control her, but she controlled it. Because she did not allow all the seemly good and important things over take her. They were so proud that she was able to say no to things, and kept time for the important things.

Then it hit him, like someone took a two by four and first hit him in the gut, then in the face. He
remembered about how in his youth no matter where he had gone, what he had done in the day there were these open arms, ears and eyes. He stood there momentarily, and there was a light tap on his shoulder, young man, aren’t you in a hurry, it is your turn. He slowly turned around and looking straight into his face was arms, ears, and eyes; that he had allowed to be taken from him. Looking deep into these eyes there was a communication that had taken place. The grandmother knew in her heart what was about to take place, and she opened her arms, he slid into them just as if they were tailor made for him at this moment, and started to cry like a lost little boy, momentarily there were a set of strong yet gentle arms that scooped both of
them up and directed them to an empty corner table.

There they all sat and he emptied his heart and soul to these strangers who had open arms, ears and eyes. They sat and listened to the young man for a long time. They said to him as you have gone into open arms; so open yours, as you have been listened to so listen, as you have been seen so see. As he turned and looked out the window into the wooded area near by,
his thoughts had quickly ran into the past and knew what he had to do. As he turned to thank the grandma, and grandpa for their open arms and hearing him, they were gone and standing there was his mom and dad. He looked at them in amazement and wonder at what had just happened. He opened his arms to them, listened to them and saw the wonder of their love that had never gone away or faded.

John Raschick 10-21-2004