She Cried a River

She did not ask for this to happen, it was not her fault. Her child lay dying a painful death. A young man tall and blonde, beautiful to the eyes. He did not ask for this to happen, it was not his fault. His choice was only one a million young people make every day. He had sex with his girlfriend unprotected. In his ecstasy he plummeted over a cliff and now he lay dead from a disease called AIDS. This was not supposed to happen, she cried the night. As she carried her young sons cold body to the earth and buried him there she cried a pool. Many days she stayed there and she cried the hours.

The sun rose up and the birds sang their tune, people moved and she cried the morning. People gathered and ate, worked and played and she cried the day. The moon rose, the crickets chattered, people fought then slumbered and she cried the night.

She stayed there and she cried the weeks. She woke, moved and lived and she cried the months.

A year had past when she looked up and saw that she had cried a river. Tired, worn and dried up, she removed her clothes and entered her river of tears. Her dried eye sockets once again became moist so she could again see. Her mouth became moist so she could again taste. The water filled her throat and she heard that she could again speak. Her dried and hardened heart became soft again and plumped up. Wave of love emanated from it. She floated and waded for some time, not a year. She began to notice in her river of tears there was life. Fish were multiplying; all sorts of plants grew from the bottom. She saw how on the waters edge plant, flower and grass flourished. Gazing farther down her long river she gazed upon all sorts of animal, Deer, Bear and Elk were drinking from her waters edge.

She was drawn from the waters to the other side where her eyes saw young people full of life, hope and eagerness. Within their eyes she saw a missing truth. The truth of foolish choices, some made, some still waiting. Her heart sang out to them, “ Look at the vast choices you have”. “ CHOOSE WISELY”, she echoed. “Of the many paths you may take, beware of the one over there in the hills where sensuous swaying and bending trees lead to a hidden hollow”. “There behind a bush is a cliff that is hidden, my child fell there. Beware of this choice, if you fall you will see many bones there, my sons among them.”

Now this woman is no longer known as one who “ Cried a River”. She is known as, “The River of Life”. And so it goes, Ho…..