20 March 2012

Don't hate Raul

Today, I would like your permission to tell a short story.

It was a war.
He had been captured, and he sat alone in his cell. He didn't know how long he would be there, or indeed if he would ever leave.
He didn't know what the next day would bring.
So he waited.
At some point that night, he heard a knocking sound.
He moved closer to the wall.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He listened. Was there a pattern?
He scooted closer to the wall.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
In Morse code, the prisoners all around him were relaying the same message.
Don't hate Raul. Don't hate Raul.
Who, you may ask, was Raul?
Raul was the Cuban torture specialist who had been brought into the country to work on the American prisoners.
What the men around him  were so desperate for him to know was that yes, Raul would torture him. But it was only physical pain. It would end eventually. It would not be the torture that would kill him.
No, instead hatred for the man bringing him pain, creeping like a cancer through him, would be what would kill him in the end.
Don't hate Raul. Don't hate Raul.

He never did.
He survived the war. 

Thanks to  Jon Acuff for this true story. His website's great, as long as you can laugh at yourself.



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