That Little Boy

• Joshua Gazzard, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2013

He lay there on his couch amongst his beautifully kept room, everything exactly where it should be – very little at all to personalize the room except his old soccer photos. He has current ones, but they are yet to be hung. There is music floating through the air, a beautiful day outside, but he is oblivious to all this. All he can see are the pictures from his memory. He can see a little boy running around, his light brown hair bouncing up and down. He can’t be much older than 8, that baby-like chubbiness still apparent on his cheeks. He sees him lying in his bed studying the Bible, reading through passage after passage of this well-loved book. It is his very own, an eighth birthday present given to him by his parents. He loves reading the beautifully written psalms, the stories of heroes, about the sad mistakes the Israelites made. Next he pulls about a well-worn book. There is nothing special about the book itself, it is just another one of his old school books, but the content of this one is special. His mother gave it to him less than six months ago for him to use when he has his quiet times, his special times with God. Almost every day since he has pulled this book out and added something. Not always big, often only a couple of words, saying thank you or sorry. Sometimes he writes page long letters, decorating them with pictures for God. He has a page specially for asking God things and one especially for saying sorry. This morning he is finishing writing a part of the Bible into it. He has written short verses in before, but this will be the first time he will finish writing in a whole chapter. It is his favourite one; it makes him feel special to God and to feel that God is protecting him. It is only one and a half pages, but it has taken him weeks of days like this to write it all in his neatest writing. He finishes the final word, a delighted grin on his face. He rushes off proudly to show his mother. He can see these pictures clearly now, but he hasn’t seen them for years. He cries at the beautiful memories. He wonders why he has changed so much, where that beautiful smile went, where that love for the Bible disappeared to. Then God shows him. He shows him the essay he is working on, all of it based on the Bible. He directs his attention to the soccer photos on his cabinet, every year miss one for the last eight years. He reminds him of his prayers to make him stronger, a better leader and godlier person. The tears flow from his eyes, tears of happiness, tears of thanks, tears of joy. He comes back to the room, tears drying on his eyes. He will never forget these memories again.