The little boy was weeping outside the closed doors of the church. His tears flowed like tsunami waves down his cheeks. A stranger passing by, stopped and enquired, “Why are you crying little boy, that too outside a church?”

The little boy looked up to the stranger and said, “The priest could not pray for my mother! She’s dying, but before I could reach the priest to ask him to pray for her, the doors were closed!”

The stranger sat next to the little fellow, and gave him a tissue to wipe his eyes, “Many years ago, “ said the stranger, “Jesus was preaching to people like the priest inside and others like me, and suddenly little children came running, creating a disturbance and wanting to speak with Jesus. “Ssshhh” said the crowd, but what do you think Jesus did?”

The little boy had stopped crying as the stranger gave him another tissue and continued, “Jesus called the children to himself, put them on his knee and spoke to them even as they conversed with him!”

“Will Jesus do it now?” asked the little boy hesitantly.

“Whatever Jesus did then,” said the stranger with conviction, “He did, so we would realise He would do the same today! Shall we talk to Jesus about your mother now?”

The stranger had tears in his eyes as he heard the little boy pray about his mother and the healing required. His tears flowed as he heard about how the little fellow felt, frightened and scared. They were so busy praying, they did not hear footsteps near them, “Kumar, you’re here,” said a woman’s voice.

“Ma!” whispered the little boy, “I thought you were sick!”

“Sick people recover my son,” said the smiling mother as she hugged the little boy who threw himself into her waiting arms. The man watched as the little boy came back and hugged him, then walked away with his mother.

All outside the church’s door.

The man then sighed and then looked up to the heaven’s above, “Jesus,” he said, “You tore the veil, so that no special person was needed to intercede for me. No priest. No elder. That my prayers are equal to the saints of God, because with your death I have been made a saint!”

He felt a God above smile as he continued, “I was like that dying thief next to you on the cross, nearly beyond redemption, looking for someone, maybe a priest who would pray to you for me, and then I spoke straight to you, and you forgave me and took me in!”

The man looked up, even as he saw the child waving to him, and he waved back. Two saints outside the closed doors of the church, who needed no one to pray for them, because their own prayers were as powerful as the ones inside those doors..!