That We May Be One
Since birth, my Indian friend,Shiran, was desprised by his own father. Despite that he loved his father. When he turned 47, Shiran had laryngeal cancer. His labored speech was punctuated by some howling sounds making him sound like being possessed bylegions of demons.
His 8-year old daughter wrote him one day: “Did you know that last Wednesday at school we saw a slimy, icky bicky snail beside a plant? Then the girl suddenly lifted it up. Then suprisingly, when she put back the snail, I found myself lifting it up too by the shell. And I felt it was a brave time for me. When was a brave time for you, Dad? You should answer me, because I told you about a brave time of mine.”
Shiran finally allowed the doctors to bore a hole on his neck and put a tube down his throat for him to breathe so he can live some more for his child.
– Joey Velasco