by Marian Unn
Chapter 4
“Mother,” Merek said from the chair, his feet by the fire. “Yes, my son?” “May I ask you a question?”
Resting across from him on an old sofa, I nodded, “You may ask, and I will try my best to answer.” It was a very mournful time for him. I was trying my best to be as gentle as possible.
“When I was a child, you said people die for two reasons; the first being that it is their time to go. But you never told me the second.” I looked at my fourteen year old son and saw within him the answer he so longed to hear.
“It is pain, my son.” I stared into the fire while I spoke. “It is no specific pain. It could be the pain of someone else or the pain of the person who died. The pain could be mental or physical, and in some cases both.”
“I do not understand, Mother,” he said with trembling lips. “I do not understand what you mean by those words.”
“Oh my dear son!” I ran to him, combing my fingers through his dark hair, I allowed him to cling to me as he had when he was a babe. His tears flowing out with even more passion and ferocity than they had at his father’s funeral, for it is only when you are grown that you can truly understand and experience the true pain of loss.
My poor son. He had been so happy. He smiled and laughed and lived the life of a normal boy. We somehow got along without his father, and when he was old enough Merek proceeded to follow in his footsteps. He showed skills that would rival that of his father’s, and even the master cobbler saw much promise in him. I was so proud. But oh the sorrows my son now held! He had met a girl, not unlike how I met his father. And, oh, she was a fine one, so kind and lovely! Her name was Arabella, and she was to be his wife. However, fate’s hand was harsh. It robbed him of his love before it ever had the chance begin.
“Mother, I loved her so much. I loved her so much! Why? Why must I suffer like this? Why? Why, Mother? Please tell me why I suffer so!”
“My son, we suffer because God wants us to grow and become stronger. The pain that comes from loss is a part of His plan as well. Although it is indeed a hard truth to bear, we must be obedient to it, and grow in strength as He intended.” I repeated the words I had learned from my own mother when I had lost Jobel.
Gripping my arm, he looked up to me, his eyes were glassy, and I fear this was when his mad resolution was found. “If God believes in suffering for growth, then so will I. So will I, Mother.”
At the time, I knew not what to say, and so I simply smiled, hoping he would truly grow, thinking that all of this was for the best. What a fool I was. How could I not see the meaning behind his words?
To suffer is to experience pain, and if pain allows one to grow in strength, then I will use it to grow as well. I can only imagine his reasoning must have gone something like that. Whatever his thoughts, he would eventually choose to make pain his weapon. He would seek to control it, perhaps in some foolish expectation that control over pain would allow him to no longer experience it. How could I know he would develop such mad ideas, that he was growing on such twisted logic? How could I know that when he finally obtained the power to do so, he would force such mad ideas onto the world? How could I know he would truly believe-- no, it was more than that. Merek truly lived out the idea just as I had taught him. He used suffering and pain to gain his strength. This being his only truth, he forced it on to others. ‘For if it is truth,’ he must have thought, ‘we must all be obedient to it,’ just as I had said.
