“Small Witness” by Kirsten Stillman
Outside dawn peeks over the horizon, wanting to spill forth its glorious light. Inside the tomb, the air stirs as a single sound echoes through the silence.
Huuuuh-haaaaaa
A single breath, yet it echoes through the small space.
Thump-thump, thump-thump
A heart stutters back to life. Its steady beat sending small, excited tremors through the rock that houses the tomb. The very earth itself seems to hold its breath as eyelids slowly lift upwards, uncovering warm, love-filled eyes. Eyes that have seen much, yet still look over the small and weak with love and acceptance.
I hold my breath, too. But for a different reason, I know what this means, even if the humans do not.
The man rises, the strips of linen falling off him as if they had never touched him. The earth shakes with its celebration dance, sending birds flying and whirling through the air in bright celebration, twisting and floating in an intricate dance of hardly contained glee. The grass absolutely shivers with excitement, quivering in delighted play. The very dirt seems to sing out to the heavens with celebration, sending waves of happiness into all who touch its vast surface.
The rock of the cave trembles with joy, the rock blocking the entrance rolling away smoothly, letting in the bright welcome the sun is shining down upon the man. The man steps out into the glorious light; the sun beats down joyfully, reverently, reveling in the man’s return to life.
The man leaves the cave, and the next moment he is gone.
An angel appears, placing himself on the great stone that used to cover the entrance to the tomb. I skitter out of the cave to hide in the grass, not knowing what to do now.
Joy swells in my tiny heart, making me want to leap up and dance as the earth did. The feeling warms my heart as I open my wings and give in to the urge to dance and play in the bright sunshine. He is alive! The world has a new freedom.
I dance for them, the humans. I dance for Him, the man. I dance, because it is what I was made for.
The joy in my small little body seems to be radiating off me, infecting the world around me. The grass sways and dances on the breeze, the trees rustle and sing out joyful notes in the rustle of their leaves. The animals burst into song, jumping and dancing through the trees, grass, and dirt. The wind plays across the surface of the earth, sweeping the good news in all directions, spreading the joy and happiness. The plants gossip and shriek in glee as they do their part to spread the good news.
The world has regained its hope. The miracle that has just occurred has changed everything. If nothing else happens to this small creature of God, I will be content in knowing that the miracle of life for this world has been completed. This is only the beginning.