"Oh lazy Pishtim, how long must we pray for rain!? Your chosen people are made foolish in the sight of them who say you are not the god of gods! They mock us and say, 'who is their god that cannot make the rains fall in due season!' Rise up and make the rain come down! Put an end to their foolishness, that you might be known as god of gods, light of lights, and strength of strengths, even among the heathen."
That evening, High Priest Kasisi came to console Kinara after the manner of his faith. “There is a large thorn in my heart,” Kasisi said. “I suffer with you. But Pishtim is merciful. To his chosen ones, he brings pain in this life that in the next we face him with our debts paid and our souls free.”
Kinara immediately took exception to this. “I have never known my Neema to sin. In fact, she has spent her lifetime giving, giving, giving and getting very little in return.”
“Yes, but my brother, I only meant....”
“I know what you meant. But if anything, Pishtim owed her something. She had no debts--she was cheated out of her old age. Cheated! She is dead because I killed an innocent friend!”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” the priest said. “I will come back later when you have settled your mind.”
“Don’t bother, all right? Just go pray for your own sins and leave me alone!”
Kinara was surrounded by too many painful memories in his home. Kasisi’s visit only pushed him faster toward Makedde’s tree.
“Son! Are you home??”
“Father?”
“Oh thank the gods!” Kinara struggled up the side of the tree to where Makedde sat grinding herbs.
“The backache again?”
Kinara’s jaw trembled. “My heart this time,” he said.
“Dad!” Makedde embraced him tightly. “Thank you for coming. You honor my house.”
Kinara wept on his shoulder. “The priest was by. He had the nerve to suggest Neema’s suffering was earned. Earned! I ask you son, do you think it was earned?”
“Oh gods no!” Makedde frowned. “I hope you straightened the old fool out!”
“Perhaps too much. I spoke rashly. Just how rashly depends on your answer, so speak very carefully my son. Are illness and death Aiheu’s punishments for sin, or do they often happen to the innocent?”
Makedde gave Kinara a little pat. “Dad, bad things happen to good people in this world of pain, but the kingdom of Aiheu is ruled by love alone, and there is no suffering. Pray to him, and even here in this land of suffering, he hears everything you say. Sit and face the earth and repeat my words.”
Kinara knelt and touched the ground with his forehead.
“Into your hands accept her spirit, she who filled the earth with beauty.”
“Into your hands accept her spirit,” Kinara stammered. “She who filled the earth with beauty.” He burst into tears. “Please God, whomever or whatever you are, be kind to her! Oh please! Pull this thorn from my heart!”
Makedde put his arms around his father and began to sob.
A quiet moment passed, then Kinara said quietly, “I want to give my life to him. I know now that there is no Pishtim, there is only Aiheu. Will he accept me?”
Makedde kissed him. “Before you ever believed in him, he believed in you. Before you ever loved him, he loved you. And before you ever accepted him, he accepted you.”
Kinara took Makedde’s hand very tightly in his own. “As God has accepted me, I must accept others. There must be freedom to worship as we see fit.”