They Stood Together

 

At the gate of Heaven she and he stood together, the woman and the man who had bombed her city. They died on the same day. Different causes, she by mortar, he by a tiny grain of sand in his heart. He recognized her somehow, though they'd not met before and her city was one of many. He was afraid, of her and of the judgment he would face.

"Is that Saint Peter?" He asked her, pointing.

"No," she answered. "That's my father. He died ten years ago and has come to welcome me." 

The man looked around bleakly. He did not see his own father.

"Maybe he's coming later," she suggested and felt sorry for him.

"No," he said. "I am alone here."

"I'm with you," she said, unsure why they were there together.

Suddenly, it dawned on her.

"I forgive you," she said simply.

He smiled. He looked like a shark when he did it.

"I do not deserve your forgiveness," he said.

"You think you're the only one who has killed someone," she said.

Unnerved, he asked, "Did you?"

"If you have hated someone in your heart it's the same as murder," she explained.

He thought she was wrong about that and asked for proof. 

Her father had a Bible and it spoke aloud to them.

"Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer: and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him. 1 John 3:15."

Have you ever heard a book speak? Sounds like thunder.

"Ok," he nodded. "So we are both guilty."

"There is forgiveness," she said.

"Even for me?" He hoped.

"There is enough forgiveness to go around," she said.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is there forgiveness for me?" He paused, then added, "And for you."

"Jesus," she said.

"Jesus?" He knew the name, but he didn't know it. As he lay dying he had said it a thousand times, hoping his mother's stories were true.

They were.