Short Story: Finding God

Hi y’all. Betty here.  This is a story I wrote many many years ago. I like to think I’ve come quite a bit of a way; but reading my old stories brings this warmth to my belly (and wince to my soul).   Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy. **** Some say it’s ridiculous to say…

Share

Share
Text size
+

Hi y’all. Betty here. 

This is a story I wrote many many years ago. I like to think I’ve come quite a bit of a way; but reading my old stories brings this warmth to my belly (and wince to my soul).
 
Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy.

****

Some say it’s ridiculous to say “I found God.” That God was never lost. I was always indifferent to this argument; but now…

It’s unpleasant to be robbed; it’s horrible to be raped and it’s gruesome to be raped by five different men.

I lived a dreadful life after the incident. And I always chuckle with all the cynicism I can muster when they water this life-transforming episode in my life down to an ‘incident’. “The.. um.. incident.”

So, I got pregnant and I did all I could, short of visiting a doctor, to get rid of the child. I drank concoctions; hit my belly severally. I felt pain; I saw blood but the child wouldn’t go away.

So I resigned myself to my fate. Having a child who’d never know its father; or maybe I’d give it the graphic details of how it was conceived when it was old enough to stomach it. If I kept it; at all.

The delivery came fast enough… Haha! Was someone trying to make a point with my life? The baby came out just as smoothly as it was conceived. I laugh. Each stab of pain reminding me of those thrusts nine months ago. Oddly, the cajoling voice of the nurses telling me “You can do it!” only reminded me of the gang goading whichever member was upon me at that moment. And when it came out screaming; I remembered my own screams as I had been battered and knocked about.

The nurse said: “You have a daughter!” I said; “I’m thrilled” in a voice brimming with misanthropy complementing the beautiful sneer covering my sweaty face.

My eyes closed; relieved to be done with the ordeal; my arms rose mechanically to accept the child.  My eyes sprung open as the soft bundle was settled in my arms. I burst into a staccato of sobs and the nurses stepped back warily; doubting my sanity. I didn’t care; I was gazing upon the most beautiful thing. She had soft blotchy skin and two very brown eyes. Her head was full with soft black hair and she had ten fingers and ten toes. She was crying; but even that sounded strong and melodious.

That such an adorable creature would come out of such an abominable ‘incident’ is beyond me.

There had to be a greater force than you, me or those five men.

“I know mine is a very uncommon story of salvation,” I said to the enraptured crowd; my little girl sat in the front row and we shared a smile. She had heard this story a thousand times; she was eighteen now. She didn’t look anything like me but she was mine; He gave her to me. “But that day; as I stared into her scrunched-up face; I found God.”

****

Responses

  1. Tiki
    It is indeed only an act of God that can give us the strength to pass over monumental pain like this, and come out with beauty and appreciation for what is left of our lives. This was not the most innovative or well-written story, but I like the message.
  2. Rolayo
    I’ve been trying to write a piece based on something like this, I’m glad I haven’t cause I would have felt horrible after reading this.
    Betty, I’m duffing my hat. Again.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

+