Windows to The Soul

WINDOWS TO THE SOUL

By

Robert Alan Ryder

It was Monday the fifteenth of the year nineteen ninety three…

I had gotten accustomed to the savage sounds of the blizzard’s- howling winds, and the frigid cold temperatures just enough to sleep.

Food, it was rather light for me- all that was necessary, I shared it- with family: my wife Mary and our son and daughter James and Ruth…

I had been abruptly awakened on this day by the continual sounds of someone- knocking. Knocking and unexpected rapping on my bedroom window, and I could see vaguely that somebody was standing outside my window silhouetted in caste- shadow through the frost and ice.

I though to myself this to be impossible, as I arose from my bed to peer out the frost-stained window. The fallen snow, it looked to be at least a foot and a half to two- feet deep, and I could see no signs of life.

Mary, she was sleeping- snuggled in tight with our youngest in her bed. It was heart-breaking to see, but Ruth, she was not doing to well over being storm-sheltered.

I took some time to quietly peer out through every window in our home, and I- could see nothing of this mysterious knocker. My favorite flashlight; it was becoming a part of me. I carried the thing around strapped to a belt-loop on a leash.

The fireplace in the living room, this was all that was keeping us warm during- this time of hardship. We had all resorted to sleeping- in a fully clothed state. My wife, Mary, wearing even her fur-lined winter coat to bed.

Satisfied that our home was secure, I guided myself slowly back to bed. How I wished and even prayed, for a freshly perked hot pot of: Maxwell House original roast coffee, as I unwittingly stumbled over one of my son’s shoes- words nod need spoken, stifled by a faith that I never knew I would have.

The storm this fateful year, it was the worst ever recorded. The Great Blizzard of 1993, it left people snowbound and without power for three long agonizing days. Damages from this blizzard storm, they were numbered- in six and ten billions. Lives lost, they still remain with me in thought- to this day. Three hundred and ten innocent people from Louisiana to Cuba were dead- fallen from the storm’s wrath- the storm bringing with it: record low barometric pressures, hurricane force winds and even deadly tornadoes.

All opportunities, they seemed to be drowning these long three days that lasted between the twelfth and the fifteenth of March- drowning and freezing, and yet- some managed to find a way…

They say that windows are as doors to opportunity, me; I was surprised at the- opportunity I would receive this day…

I was hard to sleep- the knocking, it quickly returned…

Unwilling as I was to step outside into the night frost, I felt now that I needed- to take a look around the house. The sounds of the knocking on the bedroom window, they resounded, as something more tangible than that of a dream, and I was beginning to wonder if somebody needed help.

I was raised a Christian.

My father, he was once the pastor of a well-known small town church that one time housed one hundred faithful. This now abandoned church, it had belonged to my Great Grandfather, and had been passed down for years.

My father passed, and me, I took a different path.

The coming of the blizzard, it was but one- of several storms that I would soon face. For I now suffered from the loss of not only God’s house and my father’s church and place, but of also of my father’s and of my grandfather’s respects, for keeping up- the family church in faith.

The foreclosures, these happened right at the height of the coming blizzard. Me, I was unemployed and I was living off of my father’s estate.

I had no money beyond that which was left to me. This inherited estate money, it was being used- to keep up payments on our own place. I felt that there was nothing I could do. I felt totally alone, and the situation; it seemed hopeless. I felt that I had no choice but to let the family church and my father’s place go.

My father, he owed high dollar payments on both, and we just could not afford to keep any of the material properties of his estate. His old truck, and his family home, and even the family church, they were legally consigned over to the rightful owners of multiple mortgages and of several liens.

I had felt great shame that I had to let these family properties go- but what else could I do? We as a family; we were barely surviving on the estate money that we did receive. Work, it was hard in coming; and now the blizzard…

I think grimly on my life, and catch myself wondering- on where hope is when you have need.

I now heard knocking on our front door. I shook my head, resisting the urge to yell at the unknown knocker.

“Be right there.” I said more to myself, than to- whomever may or may not be- standing at my front door.

To my surprise, I received a voiced reply.

“Peter? It’s John, your neighbor…” I had now felt more stressed than ever, as I moved toward the front door rubbing my temples with my right index finger, middle finger and thumb. Visitations by this particular neighbor never to ode all that well.

I slowly unlocked the door, and as I opened clear the doorway I could hear the crunching footsteps of my neighbor John, walking back home in the snow. A package was left at my front door.

There was a note taped to the package. I lifted the unknown gift and carried its contents inside with me, back to the warmth of my fireplace.

Once again, I heard knocking on my bedroom window.

My mind, it was now racing, and I bit down- upon my tongue, in an unwanted- rising of uncontrolled anger, as I ran hot-headed back to my bedroom, on a mission to confront the unseen knocker that keeps hammering on my bedroom window.

I fell to my knees. I now felt something that I had not felt in a very long time. My bedroom, it was now absorbed in a radiant light.

I heard a voice reaching out to me…

“Look to the windows of the past in a reflection of the soul… There within, you shall find the path that your ascendants now sow…

I am come, and I call upon you to carry on with your father’s work… You will- soon receive all that you need, and will share all that is known…

For I walk within you, even as you stumble within me.”

I grasped my hands together in praise before him, a single droplet teared from- my right eye, the Lord Jesus Christ; he has shone himself to me.

I awoke the next morning, in my bed. Mary and the kids, they were fast by my side- big smiles on their faces.

“What’s this?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Mary handed over to me two sheets of parchment-like paper.

The shock of the moment, it nearly overwhelmed me, as I recognized the sheet papers as two property deeds.

The town, the community- our neighbors; they had all come together, and had- paid for the moneys owed, on the property liens. My father’s church, and my father’s- place- his home, it was now hours, ours to keep as family.

The blizzard, it had now ended, and in answering the door to my neighbor; my failures have been redeemed.

I now had a new start to look forward to.

My new beginning, one of religious acceptance and of calling to service as an- ordained minister, in hopes of continuing my father’s and my grandfather’s work, and of paving a better future for my family.