The television is droning from opposite me, I yawn. I’ve had such a hectic day, going through all that stress of maneuvering through a thronging crowd and all, but then it gives me pure joy and thankfully I’m home already.
I look down at my blue shirt. I smile, fingering the golden neckline embroidery and the same coloured sturdy buttons. It’s a beautiful shirt, I just wore it for the first time today and I totally love it. God bless the family that gave me this.
I noticed how people were staring behind me, they must have been admiring my shirt. Or could it be-
I gasp in as I hurriedly unbutton my shirt.
“I just hope what has been happening to all my shirts lately hasn’t happened to this one too. Oh Lord please not this one.” I mutter as I shrug off the shirt and hold it before me, closely inspecting it.
That prayer isn’t answered. Right at the left end of the shirt are fraying tapestries from a tear.
I slouch in my seat, totally dispirited.
“Just why do people do this?”
A throw a weary glance at the TV, something catches my attention. I see a blue handkerchief been held up by a woman and her daughter, it’s the same colour of my shirt, the exact square shape that was cut out from it. I jerk forward.
The reporter speaks, a nine-year-old had surreptitiously scissored off a piece from the hem of Paul’s shirt, she ran off with it, laid it on her dying Mom and the later got healed of her terminal ovarian cancer.
I sigh. I thank God.
* * *
Sometimes when God takes away something valuable that we cherish, it’s in exchange for an invaluable treasure.
* * *
This is an imaginative, contemporary adaptation of what happened in Acts 19;12.