fulfil
Langston Hughes
When I was almost 13 years old, my soul was saved, but it was not a real redemption. Here's the thing. At that time, my aunt reed's church was holding a grand religious revival party. People have been preaching, chanting and praying there every night for weeks. Even some people who committed the most heinous crimes were redeemed by Jesus, and the members of the church suddenly increased. Just before the end of the revival party, they held a special party for the children-taking the lamb back to the sheepfold. Reed menstruation started talking to me about it a few days ago. That night, I sat with other little penitents who were not forgiven by the Lord in the seats arranged for prayers in the front row of the church.
My aunt told me, "When you see Jesus, you see a light, and then you feel as if something happened in your heart." . Since then, Jesus has entered your life, and he will be with you. You can see, hear and feel that he is one with your soul. "I believe what Aunt Reed said. Many old people say so. It seems that they should all know. Although the church was crowded and stuffy, I still sat there quietly, waiting for the arrival of Jesus.
The preacher prayed rhythmically and wonderfully. Groans, shouts, lonely shouts, and horrible images in hell. Then he sang a hymn. This poem describes that 99 sheep are comfortable in the pen, except for one sheep that was left out in the cold. After singing, he said, "Aren't you coming? Aren't you coming to Jesus? Little lambs, aren't you coming? " He opened his arms to the little confessor sitting on the prayer table and the little girls began to cry. Some of them quickly jumped up and ran over. Most of us still sit there.
Many elders came and knelt beside us and began to pray. The old woman's face is as black as a pot, holding a whip, and the old man's hand is cracked because of years of rough work. They sang poems about saving some poor penitents in the dim light. The whole church is full of prayers.
Finally, all the other little confessors went to the altar and were saved. Only one boy and I were still sitting quietly waiting. That boy is the son of a night watchman. His name is Westley. We are surrounded by deacons who pray for nuns. It's sultry in the church and it's getting dark. Finally, Westley whispered to me, "Fuck God. I can't sit still any longer. If we stand up, we can be saved. " So he stood up and was saved.
I'm the only one left on the prayer platform. Aunt reed came over and began to kneel beside me, crying softly. Prayers filled the whole church. Everyone is praying for me alone, sometimes moaning and sometimes calling. I still waited for Jesus calmly, waiting and waiting-but he didn't come. I wish I could see him, but nothing happened. I wish something had happened, but nothing has changed.
I heard the archbishop say, "Why don't you come?" My dear child, why don't you come to Jesus? He is waiting for you. He needs you. Why don't you come? Sister reed, what's the baby's name? "
"Houston." My aunt sobbed. "Houston, why don't you come and be saved? Oh, little lamb of God, why don't you come? "
It is really dark now. I began to feel ashamed of myself for doing everything so late. I began to wonder what God would think of Westley. Of course, he didn't see the Lord either, but now he is sitting proudly on the altar, shaking his knickerbockers and grinning at me. Surrounded by a group of old women kneeling and praying. God didn't punish him for blasphemy or lying in church. So I decided that maybe in order to save more trouble, I'd better lie and say that Jesus is coming, and then stand up and be saved.
So I stood up.
When they saw me stand up, the whole room suddenly turned into a sea of cheers. Cheers followed. The women jumped up. My aunt hugged me, and the archbishop took my hand and led me to the podium.
When everything gradually subsided, the church was quiet, and only a few happy amen were heard. All the lambs were blessed by God. The church is full of joyful songs.
But I cried that night. That was the penultimate cry in my life, because I was a 12-year-old boy. I lay alone in bed crying. I was afraid that Aunt Reed would hear me, so I buried my head in the quilt. She woke up and told my uncle, "I cried because the holy God came into my life, because I saw Jesus." But the real reason I cried was that I was embarrassed to tell her that I lied. I lied to everyone in the church. I didn't see Jesus, and I no longer believe in Jesus, because he didn't come to save me.