Once more!” Hannah’s strawberry-blonde curls tickle Asher’s arm as she nestles closer, like a small bird finding its nest. Her touch is feather-light, yet it anchors him to now – to peace, to presence. So different from the chains that once bound these hands.
Asher turns his palm skyward, studying skin that has forgotten how to bruise. Scars have faded to silver whispers, barely visible in morning light. Only memory knows they’re there, and even memory has lost its sting.
“Pleeeease!” Hannah bounces on her toes, her whole body a testament to three-year-old impatience. Her free hand tugs at his sleeve, leaving sticky traces of whatever thing she’s been eating.
“But yesterday—” Asher starts, his lips already curving into a smile he once thought lost forever. “Yesterday was forever ago!” She settles against his side like a puppy finding its spot, warm and trusting.
“Well,” he begins, voice gentle as dawn light, “I used to be a very unhappy man.” “No way!” Hannah’s giggle bubbles up pure as spring water. She pats his cheek with sticky fingers, her disbelief absolute. “Way,” he confirms, catching her small hand and pretending to nibble her fingers until she squeals.
“And then—” she prompts, wriggling with delight at her role as storyteller, “—you lived all alone in the scary caves!” “Until one special night,” Asher nods, remembering darkness and storm. “When Jesus came!” Hannah claps her hands. “First whoosh! He made the storm go quiet. Then swoosh! He made the bad feelings go away!”
Asher watches her face glow with wonder at a story she’s claimed as her own. Years have passed since that night when Jesus left him here – not as punishment but as gift. “Tell them,” He had said, “how God had mercy on you.” And Asher does, each telling washing him cleaner.
“And now you tell me the story whenever I ask,” Hannah concludes with supreme satisfaction, snuggling closer. “Because Jesus made you all whole.”
Asher kisses her crown, breathing in sunshine and sticky sweetness. His eyes drift to the distant shore where his life changed. The same waters that once carried his salvation now catch morning light like scattered gems.
The storms still come sometimes. But now they bring only stories, not screams.
