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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/826559-Samuels-Vigil
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Religious · #826559
Samuel prays at the site of his family's disaster.
Samuel's Vigil



         Samuel stood behind the yellow caution tape staring at the rubble before him. He twisted his old battered hat in his weathered hands shifting from one foot to the other.

         His daughter, her husband, and their eight year old son had been renovating a building that had once been a nursing home in New York when the boiler exploded. The blast had blown out one side of the building. Broken glass was spewed everywhere from the windows shattering. Metal roofing hung from nearby trees. Some of the neighbors had heard what they thought was a sonic boom. When they came out to check the smell of natural gas in the air drove them back inside to await the fire department.

         Samuel had been sitting on his porch swing in Atlanta watching the sunset as he did every night when he received the news. After a few quick calls he rushed to the airport to catch the first flight out.He sat unmoving, unspeaking, his eyes staring straight ahead until the wheels touched down. A police car had been dispatched to pick him up at the gate and with flashing lights and screaming sirens hurried him to the scene. Several hours later he stood, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Though the police and firemen told him to get some rest he just shook his head no. He wanted to be there when they brought the bodies out.

         Neighbors came out from time to time to see if he needed anything. They forced hot drinks in his hands, he sipped without knowing if it was coffee or soup. He would sit for a few minutes on an old chair someone had brought from a neighboring house then jump up and resume his spot. They knew he must be exhausted but he wouldn't give up his vigil. As a light drizzle began sometime in the predawn hours someone handed him an umbrella. He nodded his thanks, not looking away from the sight before him.

         Even though many people milled about Samuel, he felt alone. His wife of 43 years had passed away the spring before and the only family he had left was buried under several tons of debris. Several times the rescue workers thought about giving up. Two had to be taken to the local hospital to be treated for smoke inhalation and spirits were sagging. Then they would look over at the old man with his eyes red and bleary, and the work would resume more frantic than before.

         The first shout that a body had been found was heard after 36 hours. Samuel straightened his shoulders and moved closer to the front. An officer moved out of the way as they rolled a gurney toward a silent ambulance. Samuel reached out a shaking hand to the sheet covered body. He looked at the attendant for permission. Receiving a nod he lifted the cloth and stared at the mangled body of his son-in-law. He whispered a prayer as the man he considered a real son was wheeled away. He welcomed a sharp pain in his chest hoping that God would be kind and take him, but not before his family was complete. There was no guarantee that his daughter's body or that of his grandson would ever be retrieved but he couldn't give up hope. He couldn't stand the thought of his family not being able to rest in peace together.


         A man in a trench coat stood off to the side until Samuel had said his goodbye. Moving close he put his hand on Samuel's shoulder. "I am so sorry for your loss," he said softly. "I knew your family quite well...I'm Father George."

         Samuel stared at the man before him. Anger, sadness, and defeat chased across his face. "Excuse me," Samuel murmured. He turned to walk away but the hand didn't move.

         "Would you like to pray with me?" the minister continued. Samuel turned to the man ready to lash out but something held him back. Reluctantly, he nodded and slowly bowed his head. A circle of people holding hands formed around him. Father George's voice started low, then became empowered as he prayed for strength in these trying times, prayed for God to take his children home safely, and prayed for Samuel. At first Samuel resisted but the words touched him deep inside. When the Father finished even Samuel murmured an "Amen." One by one the people came forward to offer condolences and help. Samuel didn't feel as alone anymore.

         Two hours later another cry went up. This time it was for his daughter. Her body had been found in what had once been a bedroom. The damage to her body had been minimal considering the force of the explosion. A peaceful look graced her face. A great sob stuck in Samuel's throat almost choking him. He gathered the body close to him, rocking. After a few moments he gently lay her back, again whispering a prayer. Before they took her he smoothed a tangle from her thick hair and kissed her forehead. The policeman turned away to hide his tears as he heard Samuel mumble, "Say hello to your momma for me...tell her I'll see her soon."

         Samuel went back to his place behind the line. Father George stayed with him telling him stories of all the wonderful work his daughter and son-in-law had done for the community. The house they had been renovating was to be a much needed homeless shelter. Samuel let the words wash over him. Sometimes not hearing, but absorbing them.

         The final cry was heard what seemed like an eternity later but was little more than an hour. A man wearing a helmet walked through the clouds of soot and smoke as if through a fog. In his arms he carried a small bundle wrapped in a fireman's coat. The crowd parted and fell silent as the man walked slowly toward Samuel, tears streaming down his face.

         He stopped before Samuel carefully lifting one corner of the burned jacket. Samuel looked through blurry eyes at his only grandchild. He raised his anguished eyes to look at the other man, confused and dazed by the small smile he saw. Looking back down again he wiped the tears from his eyes to see better. "Pappy?" his grandson croaked out through parched lips. Then slightly louder, "Pappy!"

         A roar went through the group standing around as people started pushing and shoving to see the miracle child. Though the boy was weak he reached up with shaking arms to grab his pappy's neck. Samuel pulled him close to his chest and finally let the tears fall freely onto the singed hair. Falling to his knees, he cradled the child thanking God.

         The next day hundreds of people wiped a tear from their eyes as the headlines told the story of the rescue. The photographer had taken the picture of Samuel on his knees clasping his grandson, his face turned up to God with joy.

         Samuel made a statement that he would tear down then rebuild the homeless shelter his children had begun. He was also going to turn his home in Atlanta into a place where troubled teens could go for help.

         Father George also made a statement to the press. He was pleased that Samuel would continue with the work of God and his family and he would help with a donation drive. When asked how he thought the small child had survived he smiled softly. "God knew Samuel was in a deep despair. He wanted him to know he wasn't alone. You see God doesn't give us more to bear than we can suffer."

Amen.


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