THE CRIES OF THE DYING
BY RACHEL COLTHARP

It is a terrible, but true story. While their fathers searched along a riverbed for arrowheads, two little girls were left alone in a car. It was a sweltering hot summer day and the windows were rolled up. While the two men walked along in search of treasure, the temperature began to rise in the interior of the car, turning it into an oven.

In agony, the two girls fought with all their infant strength to escape the confines of their prison. Beating vainly against the glass they struggled for breath as the stifling air scorched their lungs. In despair they gazed at freedom through the 1/8th inch of glass that imprisoned them. The oldest girl, 18 months old, pulled handfuls of hair from her scalp as she writhed in torment. Their tortured cries turned to feeble whimpers and finally to silence as the oxygen was depleted.

When the fathers returned, pockets bulging with their treasure, they found two tiny lifeless bodies sprawled on the seats. Their real treasures were lost to them forever.

The story horrifies, sickens and enrages us. It steals our appetite and robs us of sleep. We rage inwardly at the callousness of the two men. Who could do such a thing? They knew better. We rationalize that if we had been there, we would have done something to save them. We would have responded to their cries for help. We wouldn’t have let locked doors and rolled up windows stop us. We wouldn’t have even hesitated to break the windows and rescue the two tiny souls locked inside. We’d have stopped at nothing to save them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

But wait just a moment! Can you hear it? It’s the frantic cry of a lost soul trapped inside its prison. Instead of seat belts and window panes, souls all around us are trapped inside vessels of blood and bone; vessels which are bound for eternal fire. Unlike the two tiny girls who were tormented for mere earthly moments, the soul will be in torment forever.

Is it possible that our silence dooms them just like the 1/8th inch of glass doomed those unfortunate children? Are we too busy treasure-hunting to hear the cries of the lost? I beg of you to pause just for a moment . . . and listen.

THE ABOVE MATERIAL WAS PUBLISHED BY APOSTOLIC WRITERS’ DIGEST, OCTOBER 1998, PAGE 4. THIS MATERIAL IS COPYRIGHTED AND MAY BE USED FOR STUDY & RESEARCH PURPOSES ONLY.