Will You Choose God and Save the World?
A short story by Nancy Hilton

There lived a hermit in a cave covered with moss and peat. He looked out of the dark hole and only ventured out at night. He stole food and clothes and smelled of long-ago rotting things. He busied himself plotting hate and tried to lure others to his way of thinking. He was not happy with the world—not at all. They had stolen what was his, and he vowed he would get it back someday.

Every once in a while others came by to listen, for they were unhappy too. They had lost their jobs or fallen into addiction. “Why should the rich have so much when we have nothing?” they asked. “We deserve a break.” The hermit smiled with yellow teeth and a glow in his eyes. “Are there many others like you in the world?” he asked. “Well, yes, of course.” “Then let’s gather them together.” Pretty soon many came, each complaining of one thing or another—blaming society, the government, even the Jews. They blamed everyone and everything except themselves.

They needed money, so they stole. They needed a place to live, so they killed the occupants and took over. They spent their days and nights plotting and planning: kill and steal, make them pay. They took over a town and then another. Their rallying cry became, “This belongs to us, not to you, and we will cleanse the land of all who do not believe as we do.” They burned and killed; they did not hear the cries of mothers and children, of fathers whose families were lost. They were consumed with hate.

Other groups gave them money and ammunition—arms to continue their war. They kept on and on, and then one day they stopped, for they had reached the end of the world they knew. They turned around and saw only ruins: bombed-out shells and crying souls, destitute and hungry people wandering, lost. Suddenly they realized they had nothing to replace the world they had destroyed. No one was left to care for them. There was no more food, no more ammunition, no more lands or people to destroy.

Now what should they do? Their sole energy and purpose had been hate and revenge—how would they ever rebuild? What would they put in its place? They looked to the hermit for answers, but he had disappeared. Only his laughter was heard.

© Nancy Hilton 2011
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