one good friday

Summer 2000

It was a Good Friday when I first prayed a real personal prayer to God. As a kid, I had no idea how to pray. Besides, it was not normal in our family. It seemed to me like praying wasn’t as important as having three meals a day or having eight hours of good sleep. I was told that praying is a way of communicating with God, my uncle told me that. But as a kid, I only communicated with my robots and super saiyan figures.

It was the second day my mother would not let me play outside and the television channels only showed masses being forecasted in huge cathedrals. At 2 pm, they started watching The Passion of the Christ which they have seen for the past years. They gathered in front of the television, finding their own comfortable seats. I was the only one unwilling to watch another show that I could not understand so I crawled to my mother’s ear.

“Can I go outside?” I whispered. “Just don’t go anywhere, okay?” she said, and I ran before anyone could stop me.

I sat in front of our house under the shade of the tree. The street was empty and silent, probably because people were honoring the day and most of them were commemorating the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. Besides, who would want to go outside under the strong heat of the sun? The wind was humid, and ground was burning. No one would go outside with that heat index.

I brought with me my super saiyan figures and made the most epic fight between Goku and Piccolo. Inside our house I could hear my family arguing about the characters in every scene. I heard names like John, Peter, Mel Gibson which I know did not sound like a biblical character. As a child, I did not know a lot of things and on top of them is Jesus and faith. All I knew is that I have to be a good kid and not cause any trouble. So every year during this season, when everyone is being extra on expressing their faith, I felt others.

I had no idea how long I had stayed outside but the wind was getting colder. I looked up, the rays of the sun were peaking between the spaces of the branches and its leaves. I watched them dance with the wind when a strong white light blinded me. It was painful. It was like looking at the sun one inch away from me with my naked eye. I saw dark green then black, then violet as I rubbed my eyes to recover my vision. When I opened my eyes, I was at the feet of the cross. I looked up and saw Jesus. His body was covered with blood, his hands and feet nailed on the three corners of the cross. He looked down at me with joy and forced a smile despite his pain. I felt tightness, like there was a presence hugging me from the back. I felt his pain and I understood love.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my eyes even harder. I was shaking. I opened my eyes again. I saw blurred vision, then my shadow, my hands on the ground, and the tree. I ran to my bedroom and covered myself with a blanket. I closed my eyes as hard as I can, with my hands clenched together.