The Dawn Will Come Again
He's praying now, the poor tortured man. He's sitting there praying for his son, his sister and all the others he has met and influenced. Some men make claims to piety, but few have come so close to achieving it.
He is not perfect, but he is a good man, this priest. I have watched him many times when he has come here. He always come when life and temptation weighs the most on his heart. It is good that he has done so. It means he has learned what the others only pretend to understand: that prayer is the best way to combat evil. It is only through prayer that mortals such as he can seek direct guidance. Here the Lord touches them more fully than ever, for it is here that they call to Him to touch them the most. As a result, this man will be rewarded greatly in Heaven, though the blind of the earth would punish him for faults that are not his.
It is sad, then, that what he would like most would not be granted him. He does not ask for it, but even if he did, the answer would be "no." It is his son's time to die for his sins. He may be regretful and full of sorrow for his sins, but the boy will die hanging from a rope.
The priest cries for his son, wishing for the Lord to grant him peace in his last moments. I do not know the answer to this request, but I know that he will find some regardless of the answer. The Lord will not desert His child in this hour of his pain, just as he did not desert another child who lost his son to the very boy this man cries for.
That child, though the mortals would call him a man, was once a racist bigot, though he did not see himself as such. The Lord not only comforted that one, but changed his heart and is now bringing him closer to Himself. The change will be slow, but it has already grown greatly.
That man now helps the people of this land. He will build them a better church to worship God in. He sends them good milk for their child. He now remembers that they were the children meant for this land, not him and his people. They have come and corrupted it when they were to save it instead.
I turn a little as I sense his approach. The old priest does not know it, but this man, the father of the one the priest's son dies for the murder of, will always watch over him and his church. He does not see the old priest as an enemy, the father of his son's killer. Indeed, he sees the old man as just that, a pious old priest - who had the unfortunate luck to have a killer for a son. I am unsure if he has fully forgiven the boy though.
The old man has stood, he knows it is about time for his son to die. The other sits straighter on his horse, alert to the priest's every movement in case he is needed. He does not wish steal the priest's freedom, he has very little left to him now, but he will allow no harm to come to the old priest.
I wonder if the old priest knows how God watches over him, sending him both an earthly angel and a heavenly angel. I smile as I continue to wonder if he knows how God has used him to affect people. So many have learned to love Him better through this man, even other priests.
The white man is going back to Johannesburg, maybe I should arrange it so that he meets Msimangu. It is only right that the two men he has influenced the most in Johannesburg meet at least once in their lives. They will have much to discuss and much to learn from each other. Perhaps they can even do something to stave off the coming darkness I feel, for soon, hate will overcome this nation and only a few will survive untouched, if any.
Yes, they will meet, I think as the sun shines its light over the mountain and the old man watches it with tears in his eyes. And there will be a light to follow the darkness. Just as this dawn follows the day. Perhaps these two men will be the key. The teacher and his students, though only one is with him now. Perhaps these man with the priest in Johannesburg will create a path that others will be able to find in their darkness.
Though two fathers have lost their sons to the darkness that already exists, I think the Lord will gain many more sons by their loss. That is the way of things. God would never let anything totally deform his creation and He is more than capable of pulling good out of places where it seems to be non-existent.
I whisper these things as I wrap my arms around the priest whose sobs are sending a quaking through his body. The other looks on, amazed by the suffering and faith of the man before him.
Yes, the dawn will come again. Eventually.