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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Kids
- Theme: Inspirational
- Subject: Faith / Hope
- Published: 04/09/2018
The Miracle Of The Cross
Born 1947, M, from Oceanside, CA, United StatesThe Miracle Of The Cross
I’ve been told that the cross has been attached to the entrance of the cemetery since the end of the Civil War. It’s even got a name. They call it The Southern Cross. It’s supposed to represent all the confederate soldiers who died during the war, even though there are less than a handful of them buried in the cemetery.
For years and years the cross, which is made out of metal, has stood over the arched entrance to the cemetery with no one even thinking twice about it . . . until now that is. Suddenly, there’s a group of people who want the cross removed. They say it represents a period in our history when there was slavery.
Another group wants to remove the cross, because they say the town owns the cemetery, which makes it government property. That means there can be no crosses on government property. A third group says the cross celebrates one religion over all the others. And, of course, there is the group that wants to leave it up, because they say it’s a war memorial and not a religious icon.
For me, it doesn’t make much difference; I’m just a nine-year-old kid who thinks of the cemetery as someplace to avoid, especially around Halloween. The one thing that does bother me though is how many people have become really, really angry over the cross.
More than once there have been groups of people parading around our town square holding up signs, some of which shout, tear down the cross! While other groups are holding up signs that say, leave the cross alone! And each time when both groups are parading together, there are also police standing between them trying to make sure no one starts a fight. Even the kids at school have sometimes argued about what to do with the cross. Personally, I think they’re just repeating what their parents have said. As for me, I’d rather be playing with my Lego set or watching videos on my computer instead of worrying about the cross.
But then one day while I was out riding my bike, I happen to find myself near the cemetery. For some reason, I decided to stop and take a look at the cross that was making everyone so crazy. It didn’t look special to me; just a cross-shaped flat piece of metal all crusty with rust and attached, like I said, to the top of the entrance to the cemetery. It wasn’t even really that big—maybe two or three feet tall.
Anyway, I was standing there looking up at the cross when a cloud covered the sun for a moment. During those few seconds, I thought I saw the cross’ metal surface glow—at least it seemed to glow. I couldn’t tell for sure, and then before I could decide, the cloud passed, and if there had been a glow, it was gone.
Oh, well, I thought as I got back on my bike ready to leave. But then a car stopped in front of the cemetery’s entrance. There were four older kids inside the car. They looked like they might be in high school. They also looked really angry. But then they saw me, and the one driving, jammed on the gas and the car took off, spraying dirt and pebbles all over the place and me. Watching as the car disappeared around the nearby curve, I started riding my bike again, but I wondered, if I hadn’t been there, would they have tried to do something to the cross?
That night, I was watching an r-rated video on my computer when I heard what sounded like thunder off in the distance. When I got up to look out my bedroom window, which was on the second floor, I saw a bright white glow behind the trees coming from the direction of the cemetery. I couldn’t see the source of the light, but it looked as if it might be coming from a street lamp, except the street lights in front of the cemetery were all broken, so how could there be light coming from that direction? And then I remembered what I had seen that afternoon. I wondered, could someone have tied a light to the cross? But then I thought no, that was a dumb idea.
In the meantime, I became really curious, which made me do something I had never done before—sneak out of the house, especially at night, and hop on my bike and ride over to the cemetery to see what was causing the light.
I wasn’t the first to arrive.
When I got there, I saw several cars parked alongside of the road and a number of people standing around staring up at the cross. I found myself just as shocked as they were, that’s because it wasn’t a light attached to the cross that was making it glow, it was the cross itself that was glowing! I mean really glowing, as if it was a cross-shaped florescent lamp!
This is insane, I thought! How could the cross be glowing? It was made of metal, not glass!
As I stood there, more cars and people arrived. They all kept staring up at the cross. And then I saw my father walking toward me. When he came up to me, he asked, “What the heck are you doing here?” He wasn’t happy, but he didn’t seem really angry either.
“I saw the light from my window,” I told him “so I came out to see what was going on.”
He thought a moment then said, “Well, you better get on your bike and head back home before a riot starts.”
But when I turned and looked at all the people, I said to him, “I don’t think there’s going to be a riot.” More than one person looked as if they were praying.
Just then a cop’s car pulled to a stop in front of the cemetery. The two cops inside got out, but left the car’s flashing lights on, which sent multi-colored light shooting off in all directions.
Normally, if cops show up at a gathering, they’ll usually tell the people to break it up and leave the area, but even these two cops couldn’t believe what they were seeing. And like everyone else, they stood in the middle of the road in front of their police car and just stared up at the cross.
And then a TV truck arrived and a woman with a microphone and a man with a camera got out. Immediately, the man with the camera turned on its lights and the woman with the microphone began to talk while facing the camera. It was interesting to watch, since I had never seen a remote broadcast in person. I’ve only seen them on the TV.
Eventually, the woman started asking some of the people what they thought of the glowing cross. That was when I decide it was my turn to leave. For some reason, I was feeling uncomfortable at the thought of her asking me any questions, so I told my dad that I was going to head back home.
“Be careful,” he said, “There’s going to be a lot of cars on the road.” And he was right. I almost got hit twice, but I made it home safely and then told my mom what was happening. At first, she didn’t believe me, until my dad finally arrived home and told her the same thing.
“What do you think it means?” she asked my father.
He shrugged. “I have no idea, but it is definitely a miracle!”
Everyone agreed it was, even the people who had been calling for the cross to be taken down. Except, now they weren’t protesting it being there anymore. In fact, everyone stopped arguing about the cross. It was as if they all suddenly had something in common. Mom called it faith. Others called it a connection to God.
Even after the cross stopped glowing, which happened after about a week or so, people still kept coming from all over to look at the cross and even say prayers. Many left flowers and/or notes asking for wishes to be granted. The area around the entrance to the cemetery became so crowded with flowers and notes that the town had to stop people from being buried in the cemetery. Meanwhile, the police remained in front of the place day and night for about six months, until things finally started to calm down. People still came after that, but not quite as many as before.
As for me? I definitely believe in miracles, even though some of the kids at school think it was all a hoax, just to get people to stop arguing. I disagree. Right now, I’m studying to become a Chaplin’s assistant. Not only that, I’ve also stopped watching r-rated movies, which has made my mom really happy.
The Miracle Of The Cross(Tom Di Roma)
The Miracle Of The Cross
I’ve been told that the cross has been attached to the entrance of the cemetery since the end of the Civil War. It’s even got a name. They call it The Southern Cross. It’s supposed to represent all the confederate soldiers who died during the war, even though there are less than a handful of them buried in the cemetery.
For years and years the cross, which is made out of metal, has stood over the arched entrance to the cemetery with no one even thinking twice about it . . . until now that is. Suddenly, there’s a group of people who want the cross removed. They say it represents a period in our history when there was slavery.
Another group wants to remove the cross, because they say the town owns the cemetery, which makes it government property. That means there can be no crosses on government property. A third group says the cross celebrates one religion over all the others. And, of course, there is the group that wants to leave it up, because they say it’s a war memorial and not a religious icon.
For me, it doesn’t make much difference; I’m just a nine-year-old kid who thinks of the cemetery as someplace to avoid, especially around Halloween. The one thing that does bother me though is how many people have become really, really angry over the cross.
More than once there have been groups of people parading around our town square holding up signs, some of which shout, tear down the cross! While other groups are holding up signs that say, leave the cross alone! And each time when both groups are parading together, there are also police standing between them trying to make sure no one starts a fight. Even the kids at school have sometimes argued about what to do with the cross. Personally, I think they’re just repeating what their parents have said. As for me, I’d rather be playing with my Lego set or watching videos on my computer instead of worrying about the cross.
But then one day while I was out riding my bike, I happen to find myself near the cemetery. For some reason, I decided to stop and take a look at the cross that was making everyone so crazy. It didn’t look special to me; just a cross-shaped flat piece of metal all crusty with rust and attached, like I said, to the top of the entrance to the cemetery. It wasn’t even really that big—maybe two or three feet tall.
Anyway, I was standing there looking up at the cross when a cloud covered the sun for a moment. During those few seconds, I thought I saw the cross’ metal surface glow—at least it seemed to glow. I couldn’t tell for sure, and then before I could decide, the cloud passed, and if there had been a glow, it was gone.
Oh, well, I thought as I got back on my bike ready to leave. But then a car stopped in front of the cemetery’s entrance. There were four older kids inside the car. They looked like they might be in high school. They also looked really angry. But then they saw me, and the one driving, jammed on the gas and the car took off, spraying dirt and pebbles all over the place and me. Watching as the car disappeared around the nearby curve, I started riding my bike again, but I wondered, if I hadn’t been there, would they have tried to do something to the cross?
That night, I was watching an r-rated video on my computer when I heard what sounded like thunder off in the distance. When I got up to look out my bedroom window, which was on the second floor, I saw a bright white glow behind the trees coming from the direction of the cemetery. I couldn’t see the source of the light, but it looked as if it might be coming from a street lamp, except the street lights in front of the cemetery were all broken, so how could there be light coming from that direction? And then I remembered what I had seen that afternoon. I wondered, could someone have tied a light to the cross? But then I thought no, that was a dumb idea.
In the meantime, I became really curious, which made me do something I had never done before—sneak out of the house, especially at night, and hop on my bike and ride over to the cemetery to see what was causing the light.
I wasn’t the first to arrive.
When I got there, I saw several cars parked alongside of the road and a number of people standing around staring up at the cross. I found myself just as shocked as they were, that’s because it wasn’t a light attached to the cross that was making it glow, it was the cross itself that was glowing! I mean really glowing, as if it was a cross-shaped florescent lamp!
This is insane, I thought! How could the cross be glowing? It was made of metal, not glass!
As I stood there, more cars and people arrived. They all kept staring up at the cross. And then I saw my father walking toward me. When he came up to me, he asked, “What the heck are you doing here?” He wasn’t happy, but he didn’t seem really angry either.
“I saw the light from my window,” I told him “so I came out to see what was going on.”
He thought a moment then said, “Well, you better get on your bike and head back home before a riot starts.”
But when I turned and looked at all the people, I said to him, “I don’t think there’s going to be a riot.” More than one person looked as if they were praying.
Just then a cop’s car pulled to a stop in front of the cemetery. The two cops inside got out, but left the car’s flashing lights on, which sent multi-colored light shooting off in all directions.
Normally, if cops show up at a gathering, they’ll usually tell the people to break it up and leave the area, but even these two cops couldn’t believe what they were seeing. And like everyone else, they stood in the middle of the road in front of their police car and just stared up at the cross.
And then a TV truck arrived and a woman with a microphone and a man with a camera got out. Immediately, the man with the camera turned on its lights and the woman with the microphone began to talk while facing the camera. It was interesting to watch, since I had never seen a remote broadcast in person. I’ve only seen them on the TV.
Eventually, the woman started asking some of the people what they thought of the glowing cross. That was when I decide it was my turn to leave. For some reason, I was feeling uncomfortable at the thought of her asking me any questions, so I told my dad that I was going to head back home.
“Be careful,” he said, “There’s going to be a lot of cars on the road.” And he was right. I almost got hit twice, but I made it home safely and then told my mom what was happening. At first, she didn’t believe me, until my dad finally arrived home and told her the same thing.
“What do you think it means?” she asked my father.
He shrugged. “I have no idea, but it is definitely a miracle!”
Everyone agreed it was, even the people who had been calling for the cross to be taken down. Except, now they weren’t protesting it being there anymore. In fact, everyone stopped arguing about the cross. It was as if they all suddenly had something in common. Mom called it faith. Others called it a connection to God.
Even after the cross stopped glowing, which happened after about a week or so, people still kept coming from all over to look at the cross and even say prayers. Many left flowers and/or notes asking for wishes to be granted. The area around the entrance to the cemetery became so crowded with flowers and notes that the town had to stop people from being buried in the cemetery. Meanwhile, the police remained in front of the place day and night for about six months, until things finally started to calm down. People still came after that, but not quite as many as before.
As for me? I definitely believe in miracles, even though some of the kids at school think it was all a hoax, just to get people to stop arguing. I disagree. Right now, I’m studying to become a Chaplin’s assistant. Not only that, I’ve also stopped watching r-rated movies, which has made my mom really happy.
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