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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: India (02/12/09)

TITLE: Amar's Message
By Yvonne Blake
02/18/09


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The black jungle vibrated with sound, the rumbling of the big cats, the screeching of monkeys, and the roaring—the crackling roaring that drowned out all other sounds. The drooping branches hung heavy with the misty rains that never stopped. Amar huddled under the broad leaves of the peepal tree. His mother whispered against his head.

“Amar, you must go to the mission compound. You must go tonight. They must know.”

He turned to look in her face. He could see the fires reflected in her round eyes. He turned away, for he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to hear the men shouting at his Papa. He didn't want to see his father's face.

“Amar, listen carefully. You must find the missionary and tell him.”

He looked again into her eyes. “Mama, how will I find him?”

“Follow the smooth path of the elephants over the mountain.”

He peered into the inky darkness. Even the moon dared not reveal their hiding place. He knew the way to Raikia but had never walked alone in the jungle. The the tall teak trees wavered threateningly in the flickering shadows.

“Mama, I am afraid of the tigers and the cobras.”

“God will protect you. You must be a man. You must be like your father and not be afraid.”

A wailing scream from the village pierced the throbbing, roaring, raging night. They both looked and instinctively pulled back farther into the darkness. Mama's hand cradled his shoulder against her side, and she laid her soft lips upon his young head. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

“You must go, Amar.”

He felt her grasp him in pain. “Mama?”

“Do not turn back, Amar.”

“Mama, what am I to say to the missionary?” He looked at her bruised cheeks, then turned away. He didn't want to remember.

“Tell him these words, 'Many faithful have fallen, but we will not turn back.' Keep them in your mind.”

She laid her head back and shut her eyes. He could not see the fires in her face.

“Mama?”

He felt the damp soil beneath his knees. He tasted salty drops upon his lips. He smelled the choking smoke in his nostrils. He could not see his mother's face.

“Mama?”

She sat up.

He saw the flames again.
“Say it to me, Amar. Say the words.”

“Many faithful have—Mama, I can't do it.”

“Say it!”

“Many faithful have fallen, but we will not turn back.” He closed his eyes, and he saw his Papa, Sudhir Raman, once a member of the head counsel of the province of Orissa, but now the pastor and leader of a Christian church. His father had stood tall, with head held high, with feet firmly planted, and with heart unmoved. The boy squeezed his eyes tight. He didn't want to remember.

“Say it again.” The last word mingled with her breath.

Amar repeated the words and wrapped his bare brown arms around her. He felt the silky soaked sari clinging to her body. He smelled the sweet jasmine in her hair. He lay there like he had when he was little, like baby Surhi had done just this morning. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to see the angry men. He didn't want hear his sister 's cry. He didn't want to remember.

With sudden realization, he pulled away. “Mama, you must come with me!”

“No, Amar. I can't. You go. You must be strong,” she whispered.

Mama's eyes were closed. She did not move. Amar stood. He wiped the droplets from his cheeks and turned his face toward the mountains.






* Although the names are fictional, this story is real. We must pray for the Christians being martyred for their faith in India.


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This article has been read 783 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Seema Bagai 02/19/09
I felt like I was right there in the scene.
Lynda Schultz 02/19/09
How little we know, how careless we are with our faith, and how much we take for granted the freedom to practice it that we have. Your story is a wonderful reminder and rebuke.
Joanne Sher 02/21/09
Incredibly intense and heart-wrenching. I was so engaged. Wonderful.
Karlene Jacobsen 02/21/09
You completely engaged me in the story.
Angela M. Baker-Bridge02/22/09
The believers in Orissa are suffering horrible persecution. Excellent presentation.
Verna Cole Mitchell 02/24/09
Your descriptions are awesome in this terribly sad depiction of Christian martyrs in India. I could feel the fear of the boy in the depths of the jungle as though it were my own.
Laury Hubrich 02/25/09
Wow! I have goosebumps. I would love to know the rest of the story.
Mona Purvis02/25/09
I read this a few days ago and had to sit awhile to soak it in. It is that powerful. So much so, because it is true and a snapshot of what serving God in many countries...even today. Thank you for writing it.
Jan Ackerson 02/25/09
Beautiful slice of life, Vonnie. You packed so much into what would have taken only a few minutes in real time--we got to know the characters of both Amar and his mother. Excellent.
Marita Thelander 02/25/09
Very intense imagery. Amazing what we consider persecution here in comparison. Well, there is no comparison, really. Well written piece.
ibrahim yusuf03/03/09
very superb description of an event. it's like REAL !