Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time, he lived; not that he had ever died or that death existed. He just lived. There was never the land of the dead but the living. The world of light. The world of life.

The angels lived, all to the service of The One. There was no other one but The One. No one worshiped anyone but The One. All knew of no other one but The One. Until, he thought of the abominable. He fed it like a child until he committed the abominable. The most powerful angel closest to the heart of The One, committed the greatest abomination.

The desire to be greater than The One.

Evil never existed. Evil was never part of the creation of The One. Evil was not even a thought in the mind of every creation, until he committed the sin of comparison, the sin of self instead of selflessness.

The sin of "I".

Then evil sprouted out of good, out of the land of holy paradise. And because evil and good can never mix, there must be a war. But evil forgets, good will always prevail, no matter how much you paint the victorious fallacy.

And so, evil was cast out of the land of good, to the second of God's creation in the beginning of The Beginning. That is where the story of man begins to be recorded, and the fall of man began, caused by him as revenge to Him.

But he knows he has been condemned; condemned to damnation, condemned beyond forgiveness, condemned beyond atonement.

Sad.

He forgot that he cannot be greater than his creator.

Or did he really forget? No. I do not think so. He was well aware of the rules, the standards, his place.

I guess he just wanted to try something new.

Unfortunately, there are some mistakes that are beyond retracting steps. Mistakes that take you straight to death with no second option.

The irreversible mistake.

Then, we fast-forward to the centuries after then to the now.

In the hospital, this woman in labour bore a son. Her husband was on his way to the hospital at the news. The nurse had just dropped down the telephone to inform the nurse who was carrying the child to his mother.

"He is on his way." She said in confirmation. The wife of the man, smiled in satisfaction, but with yearning in her eyes to hold her wailing child.

But the two nurses, along with the doctor in the room were dazzled about one thing.

The child? No, not the child but the child's cry. Its voice was . . . out of this world. It wailed in the normal way a child would at birth, but its voice was something else. While the nurses looked stunned with the doctor at the child;

"May I have my son?" They heard a weak voice beg on the hospital bed, prompting the nurse with the child to hand him over.

She held him with so much delecasy.

"My son!" She whispered, cupping the boy like he were the finest of gold she had ever laid her eyes on.

The nurses along with the doctor watched in admiration the connection grow between the mother and the child.

"Madam?" One of the nurses called in the joy of the loveable scene.

"What are you going to call him?"

The mother looked up to the nurse, and then back at the child.

"I am waiting for my husband, so we can name the child together."

The doctor who was doing his thing when the conversation began paused,

"Didn't you both not agree on the name before?", he said, expecting as a couple they would have argued to an agreement the name of the child.

She looked at the doctor, before another warming found its way to her face, with the memories.

The doctor was looking out the window, when she was responding.

The nurses were eager to hear her reply, enjoying the melodious cries of the boy.

"We did . . . but I just want him to be hear." She answered with a smile, and the doctor turned from the window to the woman now a mother with a smile.

"And what name was on your side of the argument?" He teased, jokingly.

The nurses were over smiling, waiting for the answer. They considered it an opportunity to see a child come into the world, and most of all, watch the parent(s) name the child.

The doctor turned back to do what he was doing facing the window with his gaze down at the utensils he was disposing, not noticing behind him the mother's smile reduce a bit.

But she forced back her smile to hid her thoughts. She did not want to reply, but leave the name in the oblivion of rhetorical questions. Yet, the anticipating faces of the nurses were prompting.