Whenever I think of Miracles, I almost instantly remember one person. A boy who was my classmate in school from 8th standard till we passed our 10th. I clearly remember his looks when he first joined our school. He was evidently older, much taller, extremely thin, and had tanned skin, impoverish cheeks tucked deep inside and long hair. We were afraid and at the same time in awe of this new boy. There were rumors circulating that he drank alcohol and blah blah. These rumors were soon put to rest because he wasn’t somebody who hid his stories. He confessed to each of them. The rest of us used to listen to his experiences and his stories with horror, shame and shock. He was very irregular in class and would disappear for days, but we got used to him and his ways quite quickly.
This boy, probably 17, at such young age was an addict. He wasn’t just drinking alcohol and smoking, he used drugs too. It gives me the chills whenever I recall a day when our group of friends were sunbathing in the playground at lunch break. He offered us some pills and said that it was very effective for losing weight. We all had our turns holding the tablets out of curiosity and then passed them back to him. It was only many years after that I understood how close we came to danger that day. We were just around13 and without the slightest doubt in our minds. He probably offered to other kids as well, but I am sure there were no takers. We would know if anybody got hooked.
The next year, this boy grew closer to our classmates, as if he was becoming a kid like us. Then suddenly, he stopped coming to school. Busy with our vast study course, we soon lost track of the weeks he had been absent. We thought that he might have finally quit school, but one day he reappeared. We were all stunned because from the moment we saw him, we knew he was different. Good for us, his story telling habit hadn’t changed. He told us that he had spent one month in a Christian prayer house and that he was over his cravings for alcohol, drugs, cigarettes and other related substances.
While in this center, he had to observe a complete fasting (not even water) for a month in order to detox his body. He said that the first two weeks were the hardest times in his life but after that it just became easier and by the end of the program, he no longer felt thirst or hunger. A little extreme, but he survived, and I mean he SURVIVED! Right from that day, this boy started preaching to us. Now he is a man and a pastor (I heard) somewhere in remote Nagaland and I couldn’t be happier and prouder.
His life is a miracle, a story worth sharing. As years are rolling by, the more I think about him, the more I am amazed.
But he isn’t the only miracle in this story.
To be continued……