Mighty Hands

hieroglyph By hieroglyph, 17th Dec 2010 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Short Stories

A narrative analogy of GOD's fatherly love, a prose on Religion...

Mighty Hands

Before dawn, a bridge guard of the olden medieval army of the Far West prepares himself to leave for work again, dressed himself up and not to forget his thick gloves which protect his hands from the iron lever which he uses to pull up and pull down several times a day during work.

He sits at a tower, as his eyes hovers all the far lands from their city. He guards the bridge gate where the largest ships pass by for barter and armory trades. The bridge is horizontally leveled over the water, and everytime a large ship would pass by, he would pull down the rusty lever with his glove-covered hands as strong as he could that the bridge would separate into two parts reeled by chains and very large wooden and metallic gears so that the ship could pass through after it divides in half. Only the smallest ships could pass under the bridge gate, but at most many tradesmen from different cities and lands brought themselves on a large ship that the bridge should be opened separate so they could safely pass under it. Each and every day, for twenty six years, he maintains the safety and flow order of the bridge gate.

One morning the sky was cloudy and dark as it could rain. He rushed himself not to be caught by the rain so he wouldn’t be late. In his rushing, he left the gloves which he uses to protect his hands. He then gazed back to go and get his gloves when suddenly his seven–year old son stood by the door calling him with his gloves held tight.“Father, if you could please come back, you left your gloves.” He smiled at the child then took it and left for work.

When he got back home, he found his son sitting by the table with a lamp on it, engrossed looking at the tongue of the inside blue flame. “Father, I was waiting for you. Is it still raining? Maybe you could tell me a story before I go to sleep.” He drew near the child, lifted him from his seat and laid him on a bed. He placed his hand under the child’s head and lifted it to rest it over his lap. He then humbly said, “Son, I can’t think of a story.” The child answered inquisitively, “Maybe you could just tell me something about what you do at the palace’s bridge gate.” “Son!” Excitement then made him feel good to start telling a story. When he was about to say something, the child asked again, “Father, are you a soldier by the bridge gate? Why do you not carry a sword? Why do you not have a bow with you?”

“No, I’m not a soldier son,” he answered with a query tone.

“Because you know what, Father, I would want to be a soldier. I want to be like you.” The child implied.

“No, son, I am not a soldier. My job is more than what a soldier does. I guard the bridge gate and I carry to safety thousands of shipmen a day who enter and exit the bridgeway. Since the bridge is leveled low, that a large ship would crash into it, I command the bridge to separate into two and that the ships with their men could safely pass without crashing into it. After so, I command the bridge to set back in its stationary just by mighty hands and they return back into their positions. Then the people could pass over the bridge again. Without my mighty hands, son, there would be chaos rooting from the bridge gate.”

The son replied, “Father, I don’t want to be a soldier anymore. I want to be like you, as strong and mighty as you.”

The next morning, he again prepared for his casual duty. When he was about to open the door to go out, he saw a tiny shadow drawn by the lamp behind him. He turned back and saw his son all dressed up with his little boots on his feet. “Father, I want to go with you.” The child uttered in an eager voice. Slowly he held his son’s head and tapped his shoulders then said, “Son, where I and my mighty hands would go you cannot go, because it’s too much dangerous even to let you stay for an hour with me in there.”

The child firmly said, “Father, I want to go with you, I would want to witness as early as now the city that I would keep in safety with my mighty hands when I turn to be a mighty man as you. When the day comes that I would take your place, let this be my preparation.”

In awe, he embraced his son, the tightest he ever did. And they went on to walk to the city bridge gate.
After climbing the tower, the child was really amazed as to how grand and great his father’s work is.

“Father, you really are mightier than a soldier. From here you see everything in which no one had ever seen yet.”

They sat adjacent each other, both looking at the ships from afar. When the ships closes in near the bridge, he said in a loud voice, “Son, witness the might of your father.” The bridge suddenly separated and the ships passed safely. He again pulled the lever up to place the bridge back to its stationary. The child again said, “Father! You really are mighty for you keep the souls of the shipmen living just by your mighty hands.”

A quarter before the twilight strikes, the child busied himself roaming at the corners of the tower looking through three windows because one wall was closed for the wooden and metal gear system of the bridge’s pulley mechanism.

Then again comes a large ship, that the father prepares to pull down the lever as usual, with him rest assured knowing that the child is keeping himself in amusement with the grandeur beauty of the city plains from atop. The ship then signaled its horn that they’re closing-in on the bridge gate. Once again, his hand gripped on the rusty lever and pulled it down with all his might when a very loud and painful cry pierced his ear. He turned his head and saw that his son is caught up between the metal and wooden gears of the pulley system. The gear edges on the child’s left chest with hands already cut. Blood all over the child’s body, he still summoned on a very loud cry, “Father, let your mighty hands save me! Keep me in safety like how your might shadows the shipmen in safety!” He again looked at the ship which is already halfway under the separated bridge. If he would release the lever, he would save his son. But if he chooses to save his son, the bridge would collapse back to its normal state that it would cut the ship down and wreck it killing thousands of shipmen because of the thrusting impact of the two bridgeways.

Still hearing his son’s cries, he slowly closes his eyes and said: “My love for you, son, is the might that I have in me.” He then continued pulling the lever down to its fullest, then heard the quashing and squirting of his son’s blood, he fell to his knees and said, “Why did this have to happen?”

Image Source:
http://www.markmallett.com/blog/wp-images/Baby_hands.jpg

Copyright © 2010 Tyron John Clidoro

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Comments

author avatar angelnjuly
17th Dec 2010 (#)

Nice Story~

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author avatar hieroglyph
17th Dec 2010 (#)

Thank you very much Angelnjuly...

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author avatar christopheranton
17th Dec 2010 (#)

That was a sad story, that
raises many questions.

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author avatar hieroglyph
17th Dec 2010 (#)

Thanks for the time Christopher...
And yes, its true that it
raises divergent perspectives
and queries... Religion is
never united, and never will
be... Thanks again for always
checking up on me
Christopher, I really
appreciate it...

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author avatar Jerry Walch
17th Dec 2010 (#)

Very moving.

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author avatar hieroglyph
17th Dec 2010 (#)

Many thanks Jerry, I'm glad you always check up on my articles... I appreciate you always mentoring on my works... Thanks again...

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author avatar Denise O
17th Dec 2010 (#)

Nice one! Well written.
Thank you for sharing.:)

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author avatar hieroglyph
17th Dec 2010 (#)

Denise! You are the third star!!! Christopher, Jerry and You... you always are guiding stars to me... thanks again for spending time to check up on my works... I really appreciate it...

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author avatar Strovek
18th Dec 2010 (#)

Well written. Like the story.

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author avatar hieroglyph
18th Dec 2010 (#)

Thanks Strovek, thanks much...

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author avatar LOVERME
18th Dec 2010 (#)

if only i could type
the way you do
i would also some day become like u

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author avatar hieroglyph
19th Dec 2010 (#)

:) Merry Christmas one and all!

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author avatar Retired
4th Jan 2011 (#)

You have written a very nice piece.

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author avatar hieroglyph
3rd May 2011 (#)

Thanks Martin...

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author avatar Retired
19th Jan 2011 (#)

Nice sharing ,thanks

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author avatar hieroglyph
3rd May 2011 (#)

Thank you Retired!

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author avatar Rathnashikamani
13th Mar 2011 (#)

hieroglyph,
This story carries a divine message of God's love!
Well written.

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author avatar hieroglyph
3rd May 2011 (#)

Thank you Rathnashikamani for the possitive input...

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author avatar Avik Chattopadhyay
1st Jan 2012 (#)

excellent share

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