My Big Brother
When I was just a
small child, I had a favorite big brother. He was great to me. He'd put his big
arm around me and we'd go
scampering down some
cool dirt path. At times like this I felt ten feet tall. He didn't seem to mind
me tagging along one bit, and
there was nothing I
liked better.
I was
so proud of him! When I was with him I felt like I was beaming stronger than
the sun. He was good at everything. I never
could seem to match the
mountains he made out of sand. Mine always seemed to crumble and sag, but his
would stand as firm
as the
Dad
always tried not to show how proud he was of him...him being the oldest and
all, but his smile always seemed to be a bit
brighter when my big
brother came around.
I
felt that my world had collapsed when he went on his mission. Dad and Mom both
had to fight back the tears. He called Dad
and Mom regularly and
let us know how much he loved us. He even told us
about how great his mission was, so Mom
wouldn't worry.
The
persecution was really bad there as the church was just getting started. But he
never seemed to let himself get down, even
though the people
wouldn't believe his message. We'd all share in his joy when he'd get some new
converts, but I don't mind
saying that I was scared
that the nonbelievers would do something to him. It even got to the point where
men were plotting to
take his life. But Dad
never seemed to be worried for some reason.
Then
one day we received word that his mission had ended, but not as most men's do.
I was struck by the terrifying news.
They
finally got hold of my brother. The big brother that I had
played with. The one who never seemed capable of doing
anything wrong. My big brother who loved everyone he knew, and
who most everyone loved.
They
beat him and mocked him. He suffered all they did to him without striking back.
Why would anyone want to hurt my big
brother? I couldn't
understand.
A mob
took him to a hill just outside of town, and spitting on him, they nailed him
alive to a cross. My soul moaned as I heard
that he begged father to
forgive them. Racked with unbearable pain, he gave up his life for what he
believed. My big brother,
my king, my idol was
dead. I cried though what seemed to be the darkest day of my life. Where was my
big brother with
whom I had shaped
mountains of sand? why did he of all my brothers have
to die like this?
Time
passed and I was called on my mission. Sometimes I forget what happened so long
ago, but every sunday a
small piece
of bread and a small cup
of water remind me of what my big brother did for me and assures me that he yet
lives.
Unknown