The Little Boy
The little boy sits in his room, no lights are on, no music or television is playing, just the silence of his own thoughts and prayers. The cool wind starts to howl as the sky turns from a red sunset to orange to a purple, to gray to black as the storm clouds tumble in like a down comforter being pulled up on the bed. The trees start to tremble and shake, they scratch the house as if asking to come in safe from the storm. The thunder rolls in the distance and the child looks out of the window thinking the storm will pass quickly. The trees aren’t scratching at the walls anymore, they are knocking. The thunder roars and grumbles loudly now, as the house shakes with each display. The child’s scared now and he grabs the worldly blanket thinking the soft and fuzzy blanket will protect him in the night’s storm. The boy’s now terrified as the lightning show turns darkness to daylight. Each flash he sees shadows on the walls. The flash looks like someone’s in the room. Another flash and he’s sure he saw the shape of a man. The flash and thunder crack in the air and he sees the man shadow again. He covers his head with the blanket but the wind, the howls, the trees, the light still rages on and he feels the cold of evil all around.
The boy scrambles off the bed to the corner, ‘get away!” he screams. The shadow turns to many now, all man shaped, some hunched over, some standing tall, all dancing around the room. The lighting and the thunder continue to play the song that the shadows dance to. The trees whipping around now and it sounds like the tree will rip through the wall. The rain falls, and falls, the sound is loud, and nearly drowns out the rest of the world.
The slow sound of water seems to be coming inside now, the boy peeks from the covers to see the glistening of the water coming from under his door. The shadows continue to dance on the walls and the boy now terrified tries to find a way away from the water. He begins to cry as the fear now can’t be controlled. The rush of water breaks down the door. The storm continues outside, but the boy’s not safe anymore. The water rises as he climbs to the bed. The thunder now sounds like laughing, the shadows seem to be celebrating, the fear the boy feels is feeding the shadows, the waters rise fast, and faster soon to be cresting the top of the bed. The water is frigid cold. The boys wet, and shivering as the water makes things float around the room. The shadows close in, the windows now covered with water, the lighting, the thunder louder and brighter then they were, the shadows now seem less like shadows but shadow men. Physical and the boy tries to tread water, still gripping his blanket, his protection.
The lighting stops, the thunder does not, the freezing waters continue to rise. The boy knows he’s going to die now. The boy shakes with fear, shakes with regret, and sorrow. He will miss his friends, mom, dad, and grandparents. He has no protection from this storm, no hope. The shadows now dance on the ceiling and the walls, but he sees one cutting through the water coming straight towards him. Fear freezes him in place. The water is nearly to the ceiling now. It’ll only be moments before he is under water drowning in this strange water. The shadow grabs the blanket away and throws it away. The boy cries, pleads with the shadow to spare him, to let him live. “What do you want!?” the little boy screams, crying, voice shaking, screaming now in fear
“Why, I want your very soul.” Exclaims the shadow. The entity grabs the boys throat and the boy feels like frostbite around his neck. His life is fading; he feels the cold spreading through his entire body. The air is now frost, his breath struggles and he sees it now in the air. The shadows on the wall seems to be more excited as his life is being drained from him. The evil shadow’s grip around the boy’s neck tightens. Why is the shadow taking so long, why make me struggle the little boy thinks.
“God please, please help.” The boy manages to let the words escape his lips. Suddenly the roof is ripped away, the whole room is filled with a blinding light. The boy sees the shadows burst into a flame and the ash falls from the walls. The shadows look burned into the walls. The water turns to a harmless steam, the evil shadow screams towards the light and releases the boy’s throat. The boy falls, but is caught by a cloud. He’s lifted towards the sky and feels as if he’s wrapped in a blanket of warmth and softer then anything he’s ever felt. The boy can’t see in the brightness of the light, but whispers “thank you.”
“When you are in times of trouble, when the storms rage on around you, just call for me, just call my name, and I will be there to protect you my child.” The boy knows who saved him, God, the soft touch of angel’s wings protecting him, keeping him warm. The touch of God has healed his wounds, and his terror is gone.
The boy wakes in his bed, the room is back to normal, no shadow men burned to the wall, no water in site. The tree outside isn’t knocking anymore, and the moonlight shines brightly into the room casting what looks like angel wings on the wall. The boy knows he can sleep tight tonight because God has sent an angel to cover him and protect him. The God of all that’s good and just in this world so loved the child he came to the world to save him; of all the people he could save he saved the boy. With the blanket of an angel’s wing the child closed his eyes in peace and drifted off to sleep.
Every now and then the child sees the shadows dancing around, but when the Child calls out to God, the shadows draw back in fear, and the child has no fear of them anymore. The power the shadows once had are gone, because the child learned the true nature of walking with God. Never in the child’s life would he ever be in such a great storm again.
The Arrow Preacher 