Thursday, December 20, 2007

Short Story: A Journey Into The Heart Of My Elaine

They said that she always locked her room up. They said that her room was a sacred place for her, a secret in her life that she would not let anyone into. Now, they handed me the key to her secret. It was her wish as she breathed her dying words in the hospital for me to possess the key.


"Elaine Chia, what is most precious to your heart?" I once asked her as we went on a date together.

Elaine smiled, shyly. "Trying to get into my heart, Yi Wei? You will get a chance, one day, when the two of us becomes one as God has intended. I will give you the key to my heart, to unlock my secret."

"Can’t I unlock it, now, my honey?" I asked, teasingly, lightly caressing her beautiful hair.

"No," she replied, with a smile. "The secret is only meant for my hubby."


The key... she wanted me to have the key. My fiancé's secret. What was in the room?

My curiosity brought me into the flat near Bedok MRT where Elaine’s parents still live in, and where my precious Elaine used to live. Elaine’s parents were glad to see me. They always seemed to like me. What a tragedy it was that I would never have the chance to be their son-in-law. An irresponsible drunken driver on the road took my Elaine away from me.

"That is Elaine's room," Mr.Chia pointed to a small locked door.

"Thanks, uncle." I replied.


The door to Elaine’s room was decorated with tiny little cards. They had edifying messages like "God bless you, sister" etc written onto them.

"Why are you always scribbling into these tiny little cards?" I once asked Elaine when we were at a table in the library and she was busy scribbling notes into one of the tiny card from a stack of cards she had bought from a stationary shop.

"Oh, Thanksgiving Day is coming, and I just want to give a little encouragement to my brothers and sisters in Christ," Elaine smiled.

"This brother in Christ here needs some encouragement, too, and you are too busy to notice his loneliness," I teased, pointing to myself.

"Very well, my lonely brother in Christ, I will write the notes when I get home," Elaine smiled. "Now is a special moment I will only spend with you."


The door opened and I entered into the room. The wall in the room was decorated with photographs.

I saw the photograph of a Sri Lankan maid that Elaine and I chanced upon on a bus-stop. We found out that she was a Christian and Elaine insisted on taking a photograph together with her.

I saw the photographs of some Christian online friends that Elaine often talked to me about, who she corresponded with through e-mail. They came from different nations and were of different skin colors from myself.

I saw the photographs that were cut out from newspapers and magazines of some obscure faces of some persecuted Christians in some faraway land.

I saw the photographs taken during a moment when we celebrated together with a brother from our church his 21st birthday. We pushed his face into the cake!

I saw the photographs of the various Christian relatives that came to Elaine's house during Chinese New Year to celebrate the festive occasions. They looked so stern and serious.

I saw the photographs of the kids in the Sunday school that Elaine was teaching in. Elaine was beaming in the midst of them.

I saw the photographs of Elaine's peers from a Christian organization she joined in her university campus; they were enjoying their food!

I saw photographs of Christians, many Christians, photographs that were pasted all over the room of Elaine. Different moments, spent together with fellow believers, captured artistically onto the lens of the camera.

And at the center of the room, I saw a painting of Jesus. Jesus' painting was there in the heart of her room, in the midst of all the photographs pasted on the wall. A small wooden frame with two words, 'My Family', was nailed just above the painting of Jesus to the wall.

Words were scribbled onto the painting of Jesus."I love the fellowship with you, Jesus and my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ."

Oh, my Elaine, same for me, same for me.

Short Story: The Incomplete Face Of Jesus

She was not here.

The sanctuary was filled with man and women, boys and girls, people from every racial background.

The worship leaders were standing on stage, preparing to lead the crowd that had entered into the The Church of Our Savior for worship.

“Everyone, are you ready to worship the King?” the main worship leader for the day shouted into his microphone. The people resounded with joyous “yes”.

The worship began.

The music instruments were right, the people’s voice resounded together in harmony, it was a wonderful worship experience.

I felt like I was connected into this body called the church of God, singing with the people in the crowd, singing with the saints and angels in heaven. I could hear in my mind the beautiful voices of the angel joining us in worship of the King of kings.

How wonderful, how great it is to be in His presence. I wanted to remain here, forever, to praise and worship Him for all eternity.

But something bugged me. It ruined my wonderful moment of worship. It destroyed a little bit of that joy I had, worshipping Him here in the presence of His saints.

She was not here, she was not here, she was not here.

The voice nagged at me, again and again. It gave me no peace.

She, Wang Yi Hui, had not been here today. She was not here last week. Or the week before. Or the month before. Or months before.She was one of the most joyous people; she was always the one to give her best in worshipping the Lord. She was always at the front row; she was always so absorbed in her worship of Him that she became oblivious to everything else.

But she was not here, today.

I tried to forget her absence, I tried to forget her. People fell away from the church, often. Why should I let the absence of a mere lady affected me in my joy of worshipping Him who save me?

But the voice refused to let me off.

She was not here, she was not here, she was not here. It was almost as if someone was sobbing, someone was crying within my heart. Someone missed her. She was not here, someone cried.

I could not take the nagging voice, anymore. It was affecting me in a greater manner than I wanted it to.

I got out of the sanctuary, and went to the toilet to take a break from the worship. I wanted a break from the nagging voice that bugged me.

Her son died in a car accident, I heard. He was unsaved. No one had bothered to attend his funeral, he happened to die on Christmas and no one wanted to spoil their joyous mood by attending the funeral of the son of a woman they hardly knew.

Was that when she stopped attending the service? Was that when her joyous dance and beautiful voice began to disappear from our church?

She was not here, she was not here, she was not here. The nagging voice followed me on and on. It was almost like a cry from somebody who missed her lively dance, her beautiful voice.

I went into one of the cubicles in the toilet.

A vision of a past event flashed before my eyes. It was a time when Yi Hui and I were at the house of another Christian sister, to enjoy some moments of female fellowship. We were trying to piece together a set of jigsaw puzzle that had the face of Jesus. We worked for hours, it was a difficult puzzle.

We almost completed the face of Jesus. Almost. One puzzle was missing, it was lost somehow, and we could not complete the jigsaw puzzle. The other 999 pieces were there, but this 1 missing piece made the face of Jesus incomplete.

I burst into tears inside the cubicle. He was the one crying.

He was crying for His 1 missing puzzle. Corporate worship was not complete unless she was here. But she was not here, today.

I repented of my sins for not being there with her last Christmas when her son passed away, and I prayed for her to come back. I wanted to dance and worship Him together with her.

Short Story: The Vessel Of Food

The grass is not green, but yellow.

Faces after faces of living skeletons in filthy rags staggered aimlessly towards nowhere in particular. A long haired living skeleton threw a tiny half-alive skeleton away from itself.

“Don’t leave me, mama!” The young half-dead whimpered, not with its voice, but its eyes.
The long haired skeleton walked on, joining the faces after faces of skeletons in filthy rags in their journey to nowhere. The young half-dead tried to force its tiny legs to stand, but it crumpled to the ground. Its skeleton legs were incapable of supporting it.


“Don’t leave me, mama. Don’t leave me!” It screamed, wordlessly.


“Shu Zhen, are you with us?” The voice of her church friend, Mei Zhen brought the 22 year old young woman back to the real world.

“Er… yes,” Shu Zhen stammered.

“Sigh, you are daydreaming, again, aren’t you?” Xiao Hui, another of her friends from church, sighed.

“Well, er, not really…” Shu Zhen replied. Her friends took no notice of her.

“The food here really sucked,” Mei Zhen commented. Her not-so-thin hand, with the use of a knife, cut out another large portion of meat from one of the several dishes before her.

“I don’t think we can finish… the food,” Shu Zhen said. “Besides, we are quite fortunate to have something to eat.”

“Fortunate? The food is not free. We paid for them, you know. With our money. Our hard-earned money.” Xiao Hui stated her opinion, aggressively. She paused for a moment to help herself to some sliced pieces of beef on her plate. “The government, with the 2 tax increase, really robs us of our livelihood. We will starve to death, I tell you, starve to death!”

Shu Zhen shuddered. She thought of the skeletons she saw in her vision. “What about the Ethiopians who are currently suffering from a famine? Aren’t we more fortunate than them?”

“We can’t really compare ourselves with them. They are used to it.” Xiao Mei replied.

“Well, still, maybe we can do something to help them,” Shu Zhen suggested, timidly.

“Don’t be silly, Shu Zhen. There is nothing we can do to help them. Only those God has called to be missionaries are given the abilities to help these destitute people.” Mei Zhen said.

Why are you so sure that God is not calling us to be the missionaries, Shu Zhen wondered aloud to herself. She was too fearful to express her insignificant voice.

~~~

The cramped seat in the plane afforded her plenty of time to reflect on the words of her parents.

“You are kind to the world, but cruel to your own parents!” Her mother had expressed in disappointment.

“We brought you up, gave you a good education, and now you… sigh… it is your choice.” Her father sighed.

Shu Zhen thought about her bungalow that she had resided in since she was a child. She thought of the eight maids that her busy parents had hired to look to her needs. She thought of the never-ending-supply of food that her house had never failed to provide her. She thought of the income that was the envy of her friends, which she received as a manager of her father’s company.

Fear crept into her heart and mocked her. You are a sheltered pot. You won’t be able to deal with the hardships there. What a foolish decision this is. Fear’s voice was loud. Shu Zhen was too timid to combat Fear.

~~~

The grass is not green, but yellow. The young half-dead was lying alone, counting the seconds before blackness engulfed it. Its eyes would soon fail it like the way its legs and voice did. In the midst of darkness, it saw a figure of light walking closer and closer towards it.

“I am Jesus.” The figure of light whispered to the child. The child smiled when he saw the bread in the hands of the figure of light. The blackness would not engulf him, after all. The child lied comfortably in the laps of Jesus. “I will be your mama.” The voice of Shu Zhen said, lovingly.

Boldness delivered a crushing blow to Fear, and Fear was defeated. Shu Zhen held tightly to the vision in her mind, and found to her surprise she was not afraid anymore.