WHEN THE LIGHTNING STRUCK

Supare and Sukani worked hard in the rice fields all day, digging and weeding in the hot sun. Now they sat against the coconut palm to rest. Feeling thirsty, Sukani junped up and clamboured up the tree.

Near the top he pulled a sharp curved knife from his short’s pocket, and cut off two coconuts, which plopped to the ground with a thud, narrowly missing Supare and Misdi. Dodging nests of tree ants, Sukani slid down the tree-trunk, ready to share the coconuts with his friends, who cut through the outer fibre of the nut.

Supare then punctured a little hole, tipped back his head, and drank his share of the refreshing coconut milk. He handed it to Sukani, then Misdi,, who sucked out the remaining juice. Then he hacked at the shell till he broke through to the sweet coconut flesh which he began to cut and share with his friends.

Suddenly, as they nibbled, a flash of lightning forked across the sky, followed by the crack of thunder scaring the boys.

Sukani and Misdi knew the danger of being under a tree when lightning flashed, and jumped to warn Supare. ‘Run there is danger.’ And off they ran hoping that Supare followed them. But Supare shouted, ‘I’ll wait. I’m not afraid.’ He waited hoping for the storm to pass, knowing that tropical storms often clear quite quickly. But not this one.

Great forked flashes lit the sky, while the thunder roared.

Suddenly a blinding flash split the coconut tree, and struck Supare who sprawled unconscious. Now torrents of rain soaked the poor boy. Nearby, neighbours , scurrying home from the rice fields, saw the unfortunate boy, and ran through the rain to rescue him.

Carefully they lifted Supare on to a woven mat and covered the boy with an old shirt. Each man held a corner of the mat as they carried him back to their wayside home. Stooping through the low doorway the men shuffled to the wooden slatted bed where they gently placed the lad.

Supare opened his eyes, as he cried with the pain of burns to his body. As the men tried to comfort him, and with the storm now abated, and the sun shining through, they knew Supare needed help at the hospital. This time the men borrowed a sarong ( the long Batik material skirt worn by Indonesian women ) and tied each corner to

construct a stretcher. Four men lifted the make-shift bed with each man shouldering a corner, so they carried Supare to the hospital.

The little procession shuffled past our home, while the village boys ran across to tell me about Supare’s accident, Off they hurried to follow their friend to the hospital where my doctor-husband dressed Supare’s burns , and comforted the lad and his rescuers.

After he recovered, Supare ran and played with the village boys, enjoying soccer, and even climbing trees.

‘It was my fault,’ Supare admitted to me, when he came to show how his burns had healed. ‘My father often warned me never to stand beneath a tree when lightning flashed, and he knew best. I disobeyed.’ Supare’s scars would always remind him of his disobedience, but he certainly learned his lesson.

It was a good time to remind Supare that God’s Word reads,

‘CHILDREN, OBEY YOUR PARENTS IN THE LORD. ‘

Read and memorise this verse in Ephesians 6: