Forgiving an Unforgotten Loss

Forgiving an

Unforgotten Loss

By Amanda Lombardo, Class of 2013

Manhattan, New York

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that

they may have life and have it abundantly. John 10:10

            When arriving home from school one day, my brother and I noticed something strange. When I knocked on our apartment door there was nothing but silence, which wasn’t normal in our household. We would usually hear our dog Max barking and scratching against the door. As I turned the door knob I saw that the door was already opened. Entering the apartment, my brother yelled for Max, but there was no reply. Just moments later we heard our dad yelling for Max in the stairwell.  

            When I looked up at my dad, I noticed he was teary and really nervous.  “We will find him,” I declared.  Just as I said that, we heard a bark coming from our neighbor’s apartment. As my father knocked on the door we could hear our neighbor yelling “one minute.”  I let myself hope that perhaps our neighbor had our dog. I start thinking to myself “Is that really Max we just heard barking, or did our neighbor just get another dog? Suddenly, the door opened and Max came running out.

            Our neighbor then explained that when he came home he saw Max in the hallway, and when he knocked on our door to return Max to his rightful owners, no one was there. My dad thanked him repeatedly, but I questioned why our neighbor had been so helpful.  What would make a person be so nice when they always seemed angry and disappointed? I started thinking to myself: he never liked kids, he always seemed to have loathed us, and he hated dogs, so why would he do such as kind thing for us. Instead of listening to my gut, I just thanked him, like my dad did, and went home.

            Later on that night Max started acting strange. He didn’t want to play his favorite games, eat, or even go outside for a walk. Max always loved the great outdoors. I remember on snowy days, if it was too cold we would open our window so he could sit on the fire escape and just enjoy the New York winter breeze. At just a little past midnight, I found Max curled up at the window. I though he was wanting to go out and sit on the fire escape, but when I reached over him to open it I saw that he wasn’t breathing. I ran to my dad crying and yelling, “Max is dead!”

                                                                        To be continued…