I Talked to Jesus

The cold was almost unbearable as my clothes continue to get drench in the pouring rain. I hugged myself tightly trying desperately to provide some form of warmth to my body. But unsuccessful so far.

My little arms and legs along with my clattering teeth shiver in the cold wind. Fate hasn't been the least bit kind to me. The curb in front of a fancy restaurant currently closed is where I had been sitting for the past couple of hours.

There aren't many people around because of the weather and that adds up to my bad luck. The only reason I has been in the town plaza was to gather some alms from those who pity me. The tattered clothes and grease in my arms and face only makes them more emphatic of my state.

When I first started begging for coins in the street the look of pity didn't bother me much but as the years go by it starts to bug me. And despite my age I feel as if I'm forced to grow up and work, if you call begging a job that is.

I looked up at the sky and saw droplets of water coming from the dark clouds. As the water flowed through my face I taste something salty and knew that instant it was the rain mixed with my tears. I didn't even notice I was crying.

I was born poor and never experienced any luxury in life. The situation only worsen when my father died and my mother started to get sick. I don't have any siblings which for some reason I was happy about. I could afford another mouth to feed.

Despite the rain I still didn't want to go home. I couldn't bear to look at my mother. She's all skin and bones and the nagging cough she has often causes pain to her now. I tapped my pocket which consisted of a few coins. I couldn't go home with such little money. It couldn't even buy us a decent bread.

Whatever it was about that day but somehow I felt angry. I stood up from the curb and kicked the small pebble on the ground near me so hard. That one kick held all my anger and frustration.

Suddenly I remembered the time when my father was still alive and the three of us would go to church. Even if we're not well off my father was able to buy me decent clothing. At church we would listen to the sermon and when it was time to say peace be with you, my parents would lean down and kiss me. I really believed in God and that he loves me. But then my father died and everything turned around for the worse.

My mother and I used to read the bible together. How I loved the story of David and Goliath and Jesus. In those stories God always helped them win, He was always with them. But how come He's not with me?

I cried even harder because at that moment I never felt more alone. The rain continued to pour and no one was around.

Where are you God? I asked in my head as I looked up at the sky.

I kicked another pebble. I shouldn't have expected an answer because in the end I got none. In my frustration I just ran. I kept running and running and running until I felt tired. I didn't even know where I ended up. But when I turned my gaze ahead there it is. I saw the huge cross on top of the church's roof.

The vendors that used to sell candles around the church must've left because of the rain and no one was around. Suddenly I felt a hand in my shoulder. My reflex told me to ran but then when I turned to look who it was I felt at peace.

It was a man. But I didn't know him. He was wearing white all over and despite the rain he was dry. This man made me felt at peace for some unknown reason. He smiled softly at me and took my hand.

"Come inside my house" he said and led me to the church. Though it puzzled me that he called the church his house I didn't hesitate. I allowed him to take my hand and lead me inside.

It felt warm there with the candles lit on the side. Out of habit and respect I did the sign of the cross before the man directed me to take a seat at one of the long wooden chairs.

"Jomark tell me. How are you?" He asked in a gentle voice that I couldn't help but blurt out what was inside my head. I didn't even bother to ask how he knew my name.

"I'm tired." I replied. I really am. When the words came out so did the tears. "My mom is so sick and I miss my father so much." I added. He nodded in understanding and took on of my hand and squeezed it lightly as if reassuring me that he was listening. His other hand wiped the tears from my face. I noticed that he has a hole in his hand. It looked a bit fresh.

"Does that hurt?" I asked looking at his wounded hands.

"It did but it was worth it." He replied.

"Did your mom took care of it for you? Because mine does every time I get my knees wounded. Well she used to. Now she's too weak to even get up from bed." He smiled at me and said "you're mother loves you very much. And I tell you when you get home that she's all better."

"Really? How do you know" I asked wanting so badly to believe him. When he simply nodded at me and smiled telling me, "trust me" I felt all my doubt evaporate into thin air.

"Jomark do you know God?" He suddenly asked and I nodded feeling a bit sheepish because a few minutes ago I was feeling a bit mad at God. He smiled when I nodded then asked again, "Do you know that he loves you?"

It was a question I find hard to answer and for unknown reason I couldn't lie to this man so I just shook my head no. My father told me that God loves us and that he will always be with me if I pray and be a good boy and I did both but how come my life ended up like this.

"Jomark he loves you very much. Do you see this wounds?" He said referring to the ones in his hands and feet, "I died because I love." Then he hugged me and every part of my body relaxed and I felt at peace. "Remember that you are never alone and that I'm always he watching over you. Pray and tell me what you need and your prayer will be answered." He said.

When he let go of me all I wanted to do was return to him embrace. It just felt so good and serene that I never want to let go. Slowly his face started to blur and all I remember is his smile. Then everything went white.

"Jomark... Jomark... Jomark..." I heard the familiar voice of my mother as she shook me awake. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in out house lying in the couch. I turned my eyes to stare at my mother. She looked different. She looked healthy and I noticed she wasn't coughing anymore. I was confused.

Because a minute ago I was out in the rain and then I was in the church talking to a man in white.

Without warning my mother enveloped me in a tight hug. She was crying but still smiling. Odd. I thought.

"Thank God! Jomark I'm not sick anymore." She exclaimed but her voice sounded a bit muffled because she's buried her face in my hair. When her words registered in my head I remembered what the man said. He wasn't lying when he said my mother isn't sick anymore.

"Mom, I think I talked to Jesus." I said as she let go of me. She looked surprise then she smiled.

"I bet you did honey. And when you talked to him again tell him thank you." She replied. And I knew she believed me.

As my mother and I embraced each other that night I thank God in mind with the knowledge that I'm never alone and that He loves me very much.