Gerald Goldstein sat impatiently tapping his pen on the file before him, occasionally glancing up at the rather old man that standing before his desk. Each day it was the same, he would call the man in, ask his name and get the same response, then return the man to his room. As attending psychologist from the University in London it was his task this month to fill in as residency to the Mental hospital. It was interesting if nothing else.
"Once again sir," he asked in a rather tired tone, "what is your name?"
"As I have told you," the old man replied, "Moses."
"And can you prove that?" Dr. Goldstein mumbled into the file he was now holding.
"What do you want me to do.. part the Red Sea?"
"Would you?" The Doctor smiled.
"Sorry young man, I don't do parlor tricks."
"You really expect me to believe you are 'The' Moses?"
"Of course not, you're Jewish," Moses said looking straight at the man. "Your people didn't believe me the first time, they didn't believe God, nor did they believe His Son. What makes you think I would expect you believe me now?"
Goldstein closed the file with a snap of emotion nearing hate, as he waved to the orderly standing by the door.
"Return 'Moses' to his room." He said, not even watching as the old man was escorted from his office, thinking to himself how every day was the same. 'Insane old men.'
This day was different as Moses stopped on his way through the doorway, slowly turning to face the doctor once more he spoke in passing.
"Don't be so quick to leave today, I wouldn't want you to miss out on my departure."
"Oh," the doctor replied, "and where might you be going."
"The Promised Land." Moses smiled as he turned to leave.
'Totally insane.' Goldstein mumbled, as he packed his briefcase for the night. Shutting off the light that sat on the front corner of his desk, whistling an old tune he remembered, thinking of his weekend off.
He slowly began walking down the hall towards the exit, occasionally checking a door to see that they were locked tight, even though he knew they always were. He came to the window on the front of Moses' room and stopped, watching the old man as he stood looking through the bars covering his window. Slowly the old man turned, looking right into the young doctors eyes and smiled.
As he motioned towards the door, Goldstein smiled and reaching over to check, making sure it too was closed and locked as always, then turning back to the window, seeing the old man who claimed to be Moses. The old man stood there still smiling, then slowly he raised his hands, moving them apart in the air.
The doctor nearly jumped, as the lock clicked and the door swung open. Quickly calling for the guard, he stepped towards the door and looked into an empty room. Looking around to see where the old man could have been hiding, he found nothing in the room big enough to conceal him. As the guards entered the room, the doctor saw what looked like scratch marks on the wall, and moving closer for a better look, he saw words carved deeply in the surface of the outer wall.
"Could we with ink, the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on Earth a quill, and every Man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above, would drain the ocean dry,
Nor could the scroll contain the whole, though stretched from sky to sky."
"The Love of God" Copyright 1917, renewed 1945 by F.M.Lehman, Assigned to Nazarene Publishing House.
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