VENGEANCE IS NOT OURS, IT'S GOD'S!!!
Alms...., alms...., alms…. spare me a piece of bread…. spare me your mercy…. I am a child so young, so thin, and so ragged.
Why are you staring at me? With my eyes I cannot see, but I know that you are all staring at me! Why are you whispering to one another? Why? Do you know my mother? Do you know my father? Did you know me five years ago? Yes..., five years of bitterness had passed. I can still remember the vast happiness mother and I shared with father. It was one lovely evening. My father was sitting in his big chair in the sala. My mother was playing on the piano, and I for them. We were very happy indeed.
Suddenly, five loud knocks were heard at the door, and a deep silence ensued. Did the soldiers discover our peaceful home? Mother ran to my father’s side, pleading, “please luis, hide in the cellar, there is the cellar. They cannot find you there”. I pulled my father’s arm, but he did not move. HE embrace mother and me. Took us protectively in his loving arms.
The door went “banggggg”, and before us five ugly beasts came barging in. “Are you Captain Luis Santos?,” roared the ugliest of them all. “Yes,” said my father. “You are under arrest,” said one of the beasts. They pulled father roughly away from us. Father wasn't even given a chance to bid us goodbye. We followed them mile after mile, we were hungry and thirsty. We saw a group of soldiers eating and drinking. Oh, how our mouths watered seeing the delicious fruits they were eating. Then suddenly, we heard a familiar voice calling, At first, it was loud and clear. then fainter.. fainter.. fainter.. “..... Consueloooooo ….. Sisasaa ….. Consuelooooo ….. Sisaaaaa ….. Consueloooooo ….. Sisaaaaa …..!!!."
We ran towards the direction of the voice, but it was too late. We saw father hanging on a tree……… dead………. Oh, it was terrible!!!. He had been dreadfully tortured before he was been killed….., and I cried vengeanceee...!!!, vengeanceee...!!!, vengeanceeee...!!! Everything went black. The next thing I knew I was nursing my poor invalid mother.
One day, we heard the church bell ringing, “dinggggg..., donggggg..., dinggggg..., donggggg!” It was a sign for us to find a shelter in our hiding place, but I could not leave my invalid mother, I tried to show her the way to the hideout. Suddenly, bombs started falling; airplanes were roaring overhead..., canyons were firing from everywhere ..… booommm!!! booommm!!! booommmmmm!!! Mother was hit, her legs were shattered into pieces. I took her gently in my arms and cried, “I’ll have vengeanceee!!!, vengeanceee!!!” “No, Sisa, vengeance is not ours….. it is God’s,” said mother. I was like a pent up volcano. “Vengeance is mine not God’s”. “No, Sisa, vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s”. These were the words from my mother before she died. Mother was dead and I was blind. Vengeance is not ours? To forgive is divine, but vengeance is sweeter!
That was five years ago, five years ….. aaalllmmmsss..., aaalllmmmsss..., aaalllmmmsss..., spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a child so young, so thin, so poor, and so ragged. Vengeance is not ours..., it is God’s... it’s God’s….. it’s God's….
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