Cyrus | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Cyrus | Previous Challenge Entry
By Sandra Hartman
09/17/14
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Cyrus

An old man, bent with burdened years in great need of love and grace, shuffled determinedly ahead upon the broken sidewalk. His gnarled hand stretched out to touch the crumbling wall of a deserted building. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he must soldier on even though the skies were growing heavy laden with rain. If he could make it around the corner of this old building and onto the open sidewalk beyond; he could find shelter in the awnings that overshadowed it on his way to the soup kitchen.

The smell of the coming rain stirred up memories as a cold breeze brought tears to his eyes. He grasped his torn and ragged coat closer to his lean frame, and he bent lower allowing his Red Sox cap to catch the brunt of the breeze. He treasured his cap, though old and worn, it held unstained memories.

The rain began to splash in huge wet drops around him. At this moment Love came around the corner. Her eyes encountered the bent shuffling figure and tenderness welled up in her.

It was old Cyrus! She remembered him from childhood. He carved amazing wooden figurines for the children on the block. But then arthritis had stolen his gift. She stopped to touch the old man's shoulder, and to hand him her colorful umbrella.

“Ava!” he exclaimed.”My little munchkin all grown up!”

“Yes Cyrus.”

“ But you will need your umbrella!” He tried to hand it back, but she wrapped his gnarled fingers tightly around the handle.

“I can run. I will be fine.” she replied.

The umbrella was a great help but it's weight made it hard for him to hold it aloft. Every now and then an angry gust would try to rip it from his feeble grasp but he held on for Ava's sake. It was her umbrella and he determined to return it to her.

As he rounded the corner the pressure of the wind relented and he stepped upon the smooth sidewalk before him. He stopped to catch his breath. Through the dense curtain of rain ahead of him he could catch glimpses of the old church that housed the soup kitchen. A small journey; but long for his aching shivering frame.

Just then, Grace stepped out of the nearby doorway of a brightly lit shop. His eyes met Cyrus's faded blue one. In an instant recognition dawned on them both.

“Oh no,” thought Cyrus. “It can't be----but it was. Here was a man he had wronged during a drunken stupor. Cyrus thought to go back but the rain was blowing now upon him and he shivered again. Well let it be, whatever Grace dealt out to him he had it coming. He bowed his head as Grace moved towards him.

When Grace touched the hand that held the umbrella Cyrus gasped with fear.

“Please let me carry this for you he said softly.

Cyrus looked up into the Grace's kind eyes. Amazed he let Cyrus grasp the handle. Grace reached an arm around him directing him through the nearest doorway into a quiet little restaurant.

Cyrus began to pull back—“No--no--I have no money!”

“No worries,” Grace said as he seated the old gentleman in a nearby chair, I will pay.”

Taken aback by the contrast of the fine gentlemen seated across from a wasted, and worn old man the a wide eyed waitress approached.

Grace ordered warm coffee and large plate of home made food for his guest.

As the waitress set the steaming cup in front of the elderly gentleman; he inhaled its fragrance in wonder. Was he dreaming? he wondered, as his gnarled hand touched the smooth warm ceramic.

“I---I---it's been a long time,” he said as he took a grateful sip.

He looked up into the eyes of Grace. The question upon his aged lips could no longer be restrained. “Why? After what I have done to you?”

“It is simple,” said Grace—“I forgive you.”

“How is that possible? I can't even forgive myself.”

“I am Grace. I am forgiveness.”

“But why even bother with me? “Why all this?” he asked, as the waitress set down the piping hot plate of food.

“Because the Great Creator created you in His image. He has poured out all of Himself for you. You need only accept the unmerited favor I am offering to you.”

Sunshine crept across the table. Cyrus felt the years melt away.

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