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A TALE
On this Saturday morning, everybody woke with a head filled with dread.
Many felt so weak and filled with concern that they might not pull themselves away from bed. Lots of those that did quickly returned to mattress. Those that remained awake, remained in concern.
For some, this Saturday was the Sabbath. For others, it was a day not meant for prayer or relaxation. However nothing was performed. Not even by those that had been expert and prepared to do.
Despair crammed the hearts of all males, girls and kids. Animals had been quiet. Canines slunk via the streets with their tails between their hind legs, or they crawled whimpering underneath flooring and furnishings.
Cats’ backs arched, their fur stood on finish, a teetering tip-toe of stance and step all through this Saturday.
Beasts of burden would do no work. Had anybody made an effort to take away them from their stables and pens, the animals would have merely slumped within the fields. However nobody made any effort to work these animals. Not on this Saturday.
Shepherds sagged of their clothes and solid their eyes on the bottom. Sheep might have wandered away, however none, not even the smallest lamb, moved.
Birds neither flew nor sang. They stayed of their nests. They didn’t search the early worm, as a result of the worms, beneath the earth, had been as nonetheless because the birds.
Flowers didn’t bloom. Fish didn’t bounce. Lions didn’t roar. Grass didn’t develop. Neither rain fell nor the solar shined. All was grey. Low thunder usually rippled throughout the sky, however nothing to shatter that grey dread.
Nobody died. Many wished to attract their final breath. They wished to finish the despair, however nobody took his personal life. Nobody dedicated homicide. Nobody was assaulted. Nobody robbed. All wars stopped.
However there was no peace.
Nobody smiled. Youngsters didn’t giggle or play. Brides canceled weddings or forgot about them. No infants had been born that Saturday. None had been conceived.
On that Saturday, time might have stopped. Folks questioned if there would ever be a tomorrow. They questioned if one other day would come. Most feared this Saturday may final ceaselessly.
On that Saturday, there was no hope. Not even a reminiscence of the idea of hope, or a future, or the religion that hope can instill in a future.
That Saturday was the one day, that day between Good Friday’s crucifixion and Easter Sunday’s resurrection, when the presence of God couldn’t be discovered on earth.
That Saturday was the day when God left the world.
However a brand new day would come.
Dean Poling is an editor with The Valdosta Day by day Instances and editor of The Tifton Gazette.
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