From Hatred to Healing - a Prisoner's Dialogue

By V.

FROM HATRED TO HEALING, A PRISONER'S DIALOGUE is a series of conversations between two men in a prison cell in an undisclosed country. One is the epitome of hatred, the other the epitome of love. It is a metaphor for the world in which we live and purposely has no ethnicity, names or time references. The story is universal. And the message, if understood by enough people around the world, can bring peace to for the first time in history.

We are poised on the edge. Enough information is being disseminated globally and enough people have been educated, that one message can be understood by large enough number of people to create a paradigm shift in human relationships.

FROM HATRED TO HEALING is the message the world needs to understand. It is a short and simple exchange between two hearts. And when hatred has an honest and open conversation with love, there can only be one outcome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Feb 19, 2003
• ISBN: 9781412252133

V.

author did not provide

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© Copyright 2002 V. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication

V, 1950-

From hatred to healing : a prisoner’s dialogue / V.

ISBN 1-55395-544-7

ISBN 978-1-4122-5213-3 (eBook)

I. Title.

PS3622.A02F76 2003       813’.6       C2003-900010-9

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This book was published on-demand in cooperation with Trafford Publishing.

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Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

One

Fool! You know nothing of our struggle! You have not seen what my eyes have seen, you have not felt what my heart has felt. You are a moron, a fool, you sit there like an invited guest in this miserable hole. I at least recognize I am a prisoner and am proud to be the worst prisoner these devils have ever seen. You sit there in those ridiculous robes smiling like an idiot. You know nothing! You are such a fool.

The two faced each other in a cell a few meters wide and slightly longer. One paced angrily along one of the longer walls, the other rested easily as he sat on the floor with his back against the somber gray plaster. The floor, once dirt, was now almost cement, a mixture of the original earth and the sweat and blood and urine of all those who had been confined there before. A barred opening about half a meter tall and twice as long stood high on the wall opposite the door and invited the smells of the outside world to moderate the stench within. The window was higher than either could reach.

You sit there and speak of peace while my people starve…while children die in their mothers’ arms crying for the milk she cannot give…while those monsters overrun our land and take what has been ours for centuries? You know nothing…nothing!

He alternately clenched and released his fists as he turned and began pacing in front of the great wooden door of the cell. The door was massive and ancient. It swung on huge metal hinges forged by hand a century or more before. Its lock was as foreboding and impenetrable as the door. The keyhole was large enough to allow a beam of light to penetrate, creating a hazy circle on the opposite wall.

The one pacing had eyes full of hatred, focused outside the confines of the small room, watching his homeland disappearing under the impersonal steel machines of his enemy. The anger possessing him was a growing storm.

Finally his pacing stopped, and with a great sigh he backed into the corner and slid to the floor, his arms folded across his raised knees, his face buried in his forearms. He spoke to the floor in a low growl.

There will be no peace in this land until all the devils are dead…until our soil is cleansed of their filthy footprints and their stench no longer fills the air.

He raised his head and curled his nose, looking to the window as if the smell of his enemies was wafting into the cell from that glassless opening.

Yourheartcarriesagreatweight.

It was said with deep compassion.

My heart is full and overflowing with pain.

Wasitneveratpeace?

His voice was a gentle prod. It left no doubt