Steps on the Ruins

Torrential rain fell on the sleepy town and puddles formed on the cobbled roads. Nathan picked his way around the deeper pools. He had just come back from a long day at an old factory on the edge of town. He had cuts all over his hands, his back ached, but his mind was way more tired.

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Nathan’s life had been struggle after struggle since the great earthquake five years ago had obliterated his hometown. He lost his home, his family, his hope. But he never ceased to move on. He scraped through every single day, one day he would someday break free of these shackles of poverty.

That night he went back to his home, a shack down by the river. Inside, there was nothing but a wooden bed, an old stove, and a broken suitcase stacked with relics. Nathan opened the suitcase looking for something, he didn’t know what. When he lifted a heap of clothes, he discovered a long-ago diary.

The book had belonged to his sister, Lily, who had perished in the earthquake. Nathan's pulse quickened as he opened the pages. There were simple drawings, little houses, smiling families, on each page and short, hopeful messages.

But the last page, a note in different handwriting, had left Nathan frozen. It was his own writing, written the night before the quake.

“I know we’re living in poverty, but I have a plan. I will go to the big city. I will get a job I will soon go out, become successful, then come back with money to build a house for all of us. Trust me, I will come back."

Jaime held onto the book tightly. I instantly saw it all as if it was suddenly clear. He had left his family that night, running out of the house when the first tremors of the quake arrived. He wouldn’t have time to warn them, no time to get them out. He lived by escaping, abandoning them.

His life had been an escape. All the hard work, all the sacrifices, were not so much about survival, but about trying to atone for the guilt that plagued him.

Nathan stared off into the dark, listening to the rain tap against the leaky roof. He recognized that the home and family and hope he had pursued were not for the future but to mend a past he had never in fact confronted.

It was Nathan’s turn to decide that night. He would return to the spoils of the village where his family had lived, searching for whatever was left of their past. Not on the run but acknowledging the truth, pick it up, start over.

Nathan started his journey to the village where it all began as the sun rose. He carried the now scuffed-up suitcase and walked down a dirt road with trees on either side that were wet from the dew. Fear filled his heart, but so did resolve.

He had walked for hours until finally arriving at the remains of his hometown. What remained were ruins and debris cloaked in moss. His steps, however, stopped short in front of the foundation of the house he called home. There, in the rubble, he made an odd sighting, a wildflower sprouting from a crevice in the stone.

Nathan knelt before the flower, tears in his eyes. Amidst devastation, life persevered. He caressed the flower as though it were memories never aged.

_{"The Night We Met" ~ Lord Huron [Youtube]}

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Learn moreNathan stood up and turned and an old man was standing a few steps away from him. He was in a tattered coat, with a wooden cane in his hand.

“You’re Nathan, then,” the old man said.

Nathan furrowed his brow. "How do you know?"

The old man smiled faintly. “I am the custodian of this space. And many are here for only brief periods, but I know the faces of your family. I remember when they used to sing there together under that big tree over there.” He gestured to an old tree still standing in the distance.

Nathan was taken aback. "What. … what occurred to them that night? I never knew for sure."

The elderly man gazed at Nathan for a long moment before replying: “They were looking for you. When the first tremor came, your mother burst out of the house calling your name. Your sister and father trailed behind. They believed you went to the city, yet they still hoped you would return to rescue them. They held on, right up until the end.”

Those words hit Nathan like a storm. The guilt he had tried to hold deep down washed over him again, rendering him immobile.

"I left them..." his voice trembled.

“Yes, you did leave them,” the old man replied decisively. “But your life can’t be lived out in regret. They wouldn’t want that for you.”

Nathan allows tears to flow freely as he closes his eyes. "What should I do?"

The old man smiled gently. "Start here. Create something again, no matter how small. “Let this not just be a place of remembrance, but a place of new hope.

Nathan nodded slowly. He rolled up his sleeves and began clearing the stone rubble that covered the ground. That day, we embarked on a new journey, not to erase our history, but to lay stronger roots on land teeming with memories.

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Nathan who had discovered the wildflower among the ruins planted it on a guess under the sunbeams that peeked through the clouds. A small but meaningful sign, that from destruction could life springing forth once again.

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