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Topic: Passport (07/25/05)
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TITLE: The Final Destination | Previous Challenge Entry
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08/01/05 -
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Beep, beep, beep, beep, droned the alarm on the clock radio. A hand slowly fumbled to turn it off. Harry lay still in his bed looking at the blank ceiling in the darkness. It was 4:30 am and he knew he only had a half an hour to get ready before he was out the door to work. His feet ached. His back ached.
"What doesn't ache?" he grumbled as he walked slowly to the bathroom. He did not recognize the man that looked back at him in the mirror. The lines and bags under his eyes made them recede into a misty darkness. His scanty gray hair was in full disarray. His shoulders were stooped and bowed. He felt like calling in sick, but he knew he had taken too much sick time already. He was the oldest of all the employees and he did not want to give any one an excuse to fire him. He rushed to get ready for work.
The terminal was bustling at 6:00 am in the morning. Harry handled frequent flyer passengers and recognized the firmilar faces. Some were stern, some were tired and grumpy but a few were happy. Tom Beckford was one of the happy ones. He always greeted Harry with a smile and engaged him in pleasant conversation.
"How's it going Harry? When are you going on vacation? You're here all the time!"
"Unfortunately my travels never require a passport," Harry replied.
"Hey you must have some wonderful job. You're always smiling everytime I see you," Harry replied.
"Well, God blessed me with a job I enjoy doing. I wish I could talk more but I'm going to miss my flight," Mr. Beckford said apologetically. "We'll talk the next time around. Oh Harry, I almost forgot. This is for you." Mr beckford slipped Harry a thin piece of paper. It was a pamphlet entitled "The Final Passport"
"Hey! What is this?" Harry shouted.
"Just read it," Mr Beckford shouted back. He slipped it into his upper pocket with a puzzled grin on his face. Harry noticed the line of anxious passengers and went back to work to assist them.
He didn't think about the slip in his pocket until he got ready for bed that night. It was a very exhausting day and he was very tired.
"A good night sleep is all I need," he said reassuringly. He never really felt better though. Something was missing. He never experienced a true sense of joy, or peace. The only thing he thought about was his job. His job was not like Mr. Beckford's job, nor was it a blessing. The thought of Mr. Beckford made Harry remember the slip of paper in his pocket. It read:
What is your final destination?
What course is your life taking?
Are you experiencing turbulence in your life?
These were the same questions that Harry was asking. He sat and read the whole paper, even the part about accepting Jesus as Lord in his life. He pondered the things that he read.
"Will he stick closer than a friend? Is there someone to help with my burdens? I would like to have a relationship like that," he said out loud. He thought about these things until he drifted off to sleep.
He was awakened by his radio and the news was on. Then suddenly, his eyes widened in horror as he heard the news. Flight 442 to Paris had crashed.
"This was the plane that Mr Beckford was on!" he gasped. He grabbed his radio and listened intently for more information. The wait seemed like an eternity. The announcer reported that there were no survivors. He turned off his radio and sat in morbid silence. All he could think about was how he really like Mr. Beckford. He thought about the words he read the night before.
Where are you going?
What is your final destination?
He tried to make sense of it all but he couldn't. He needed answers. He fumbled for the pamphlet as it lay on the nightstand. He clutched it in his hand as he hung his head and prayed to the only one that had the answers.
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