You shouldn’t be here. When he was walking toward this town, a passerby said to him.
Maybe, he was just attracted to the candlelight that came out the window. He wasn’t meant to go through with this, which was to gently knock on the door in front of him. Then, the door opened, with a smiling face telling him to come in.
Nasty footprints are left on the floor, raindrops are all over the room. Leave it, the house owner says, and make yourself comfortable.
The wooden door isn’t large, but firm enough to stop the marching snow of this dark night. It’s warm in here.
The house owner sits across table, serving food, talking to him from the autumn to the stars. For a moment, he doesn’t seem like a stranger anymore. But they both know that clearly, after this candle burns out, it will be time for him to leave.
This place never accepts any strangers.
Just a glass of wine in warmth, just out of the pain for now.
He’d like to walk, as still as a stone, back into that dark, cold night. He wished that that kind person had never opened that wooden door.
Sadness can turn into will, if we embrace that will, we may gain courage. Only the person filled with fearlessness is allowed to step into paradise.
God of mercy, could you please hold that good person’s door a bit longer?