The Emancipation of Lisa

Lisa was broken. Physically, she was exhausted. Spiritually, she felt drained. Financially, she had nothing. She was battered, bruised, worn out. The burden was too heavy for the sixteen-year old. Her body racked with pain. Her brown eyes seemed to have run out of tears. She had been through enough! She was told her biological parents had passed on in a gruesome car accident when she was two. And as such, she had never known a true sanctuary. From one foster home to the other she had gone, searching for a meaning in life. But none of them had really wanted her. She had been treated like a nonentity, unseen and ignored. And so, she had packed up her two duffel bags full of worn-out clothes and run away again. Just like she had from all the others. This was different from the rest as the rain poured heavily, almost as if weeping for her, as she whisked off into the night. Perhaps the Hecklers wouldn't even notice her disappearance until evening, the next day, when she'd be required to make dinner. Mr. Heckler would probably come home drunk as usual and beat his wife up to a pulp. And then he'd search for Lisa...

She wondered how they even ever got the adoption agency to give her up. No surprise there though. She recollected how she had heard the stubby, bald-headed owner complain of too many orphaned babies showing up at their doorstep. He didn't forget to divulge to the Hecklers his need to pay his house rent urgently. "Take her!" he had said eagerly. This wicked man had turned them to some sort of business. The others kids didn't see it, infact they were very grateful to him, but ever meticulous Lisa did. As she had rightly seen from Mr. Heckler's yellowish, mean-looking eyes that he was no decent man. And his fragile, brunette wife just looked timid and, if you'd stare deeply into those blue eyes, somewhat frightened.

She seemed to snap out of her nightmare of being taken away by the Hecklers as she felt a tap on her arm. The dingy, half-completed building she has rested her head for the night was now full of construction workers. It was one of them who had woken her up.
"What are you doing here?!" the lanky but husky-toned man said.
Lisa jumped to her feet, her brown skirt even browner with dirt, and started to fidget.
The man sized her up with his beady eyes and Lisa could feel her heart racing faster than ever.
"Yo, Drew! We got work to do! Watchu doing over there?" someone called out.
As soon as Drew turned around to see who had spoken, Lisa fled, leaving one duffel behind.

She didn't stop running, even after she had checked the umpteenth time to make sure she wasn't being followed. Stopping briefly to gasp for air, she looked up and saw a huge cross from afar off. In awe and curiosity, she walked closer to it only to realise it was an edifice. Slowly and frightfully, she went in. The door was open ajar, seeming welcoming..

The floor seemed to creak as she walked on and the sound of it echoed through the large space. Rows and rows of mahogany pews she saw. The bright sun streamed in through the glass windows which were high up, illuminating the building, and small Lisa felt even smaller. At the far end, there appeared to be a shadow, kneeling before something. Lisa could count her steps as she walked tentatively, closer and closer to the figure.

She came to the altar and the figure gazed upon her with squinted eyes. It was a feeble, old man. The wrinkles seemed to adorn his pale face somehow.

"Young girl, what do you seek?" His voice sounded so pure and irenic.

"A home," she replied simply.

He nodded and gave her a knowing smile. "Ah, the eternal quest. Many have searched far and wide for it yet the answer is quite simple. The creation can only have a true refuge with its Creator. Only when they are in sync will one truly find rest for his soul," the sage said.

"What does that mean?" Lisa inquired.

"Why not take it to the Lord, m'dear?" And with that he stood up and plodded away.

Lisa was left, dazed. She remembered going to church when she was much younger, at the first house she stayed after she lost her parents. The Smithsons were probably the nicest. But after his wife had passed on after battling with cancer, Mr. Smithson decided to give Lisa up. She was a reminder of what once was. Last she heard, Mr. Smithson committed suicide.

Lisa inhaled. And exhaled. Then she shut her eyes and mumbled some words to the Lord. Minutes rolled into hours and at the end, her face was moistened with tears. She had told it all before her Lord. And strangely, she felt refreshed. She hadn't realised she was on her knees.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and she winced from the effect of the light. The whole room seemed to light up. Brighter than ever.

Here, kneeling in front of the altar, Lisa knew old things had passed away. She knew her Lord had taken all her burdens and cares. And for the first time in her life, she felt such emancipation. She could breathe in the fresh air and actually enjoy it. She wasn't filled with despair and hopelessness again. And then, she knew for certain that she was finally home because God had chosen her.