Oblio and Arrow had come to the rendezvous point. It was an arduous journey for sure, but a trek well worth making. And even though it had taken him years to arrive, Oblio knew it was well overdue.
He had gotten there a bit early in the morning. The moon and the rising sun fought the night for dominance, and Oblio just watched in wonder. He had been under its spell; the magnificence of nature being revealed in metered increments. And as he observed, his dog Arrow sat on its haunches admiring the scene as well. His head cocked slightly to the right as if listening to his master’s voice.
It seemed the both were. The boy had read in the Manifests that this was the spot and moment in which He would appear. No one else gave the impression that they believed in His real presence in this world. But now as the promised “second coming” was at hand, it remained just Oblio and Arrow, side-by-side as they had always been since they were both young “pups”.
The rising orb of the Son gained the upper hand over the ravages of darkest night, as it crept ever-slowly into the morning sky. Obilo swallowed the lump in his throat, awed by the display that made his being there, more meaningful than he could imagine. Arrow barked at the sight of Its brilliance, singing his praises in Doggese as his tail swiped at the sand in sweeping arcs.
Oblio bowed his head in reverence. Arrow did the same. And the morning Son had returned. The manifest said it would be a sign, and by His sign you would know Him. And be saved by Him.
They would be nourished and protected by Him. Oblio believed it. Arrow did the same. The beauty of His coming was a sight they would not soon forget. It engrained itself in their hearts.
They felt sorry for those who did not believe. The Son also rose for them. But now, they’ll never get the chance to know!