Sparks

It was just a little scrawny poodle. She had picked it out just after 9/11, in those weeks when so many people were still feeling the unease and uncertainty from the attacks. He thought she made a bad choice; there were healthier puppies to be found. He would keep the puppy when she had to travel, taking it places he would go, and letting it sleep with him. Though they had parted company years before, he would still get to see the little fluffball once every year or two. These days, the old poodle walks slowly, until he walks in to see him. The thin, ten year old dog's legs come alive and jump and dance to see him. The spark was still there...




They had known each other since grade school, never more than passing acquaintances until High School. They shared a common activity back then, but were never more than casual friends. He remembered his pleasure at her presence and smile when she stood next to him for a group photo. Decades passed without any contact since those school days, then they happened to run into each other at a coffee shop. He still saw the young girl that once enraptured him and she saw a new man, different than the clumsy boy from their youth. A touch, an embrace, a kiss, and the spark grew into the flames of love to warm their former loneliness...



She was a singer in her youth, and still was as an adult. Once, he had written music for her to sing, now he barely listened to music at all. She was always his first choice to sing with in those days of song, but he had lost contact with her after graduation, as he had done with so many others. Through the strange circumstances of the working world, they had come to work in the same office so many years later. Their mature conversations about life and theology became one of the highlights of his day, and he finally had a job that he looked forward to going to each morning. The spark had become the warm, glowing embers of friendship...



Once upon a time, he knew Him, but then turned his back upon Him. Wandering through the years of his life, he searched the philosophies and teachings of the world in an effort to free himself from thoughts of Him. Finally, he resigned himself to being an outcast, an apostate. After some time, his strength had faded, and he could no longer walk the road. In his exhaustion, all he could say was, "God help me."  After some time his legs strengthened and the road became smoother, or so it seemed to him. Then he realized that someone was walking beside him, helping him walk along the rocks and ruts that were still in the road. It was then he realized that his redemption was real, and he had been led home. The spark had lit the torch to light his path, bringing him back to the bonfires of the party his Father was throwing for the returned prodigal...