The Devil and the Old Man

When the devil sneaked in, the old man was asleep. He stirred, his sleep troubled by such evil so close.

By the fire, in his rocking chair, blanket across his lap, he asked, “Haven’t you had enough?”

The Devil answered, “Not until you admit that I have won.” He sneered at the old man and said wickedly, “Your sins outweigh your good deeds.”

“I can’t beat you by doing good deeds, it’s true. But I can with the decency in my heart, my sympathy for those who suffer, my faith in my God and my Savior. That’s why you will never win.”

“You suffer,” sneered the Devil, “And you’re so sad and lonely.”

“That’s true,” said the old man. “I hurt deep down. All the time. But that is the price of a hard-lived life extended this far. I don’t like it but I accept it. But you’re wrong about me. It’s true that I get lonely at times, because people need friends. But I am never alone. In the worst of times, my Father watches over me. I know he is with me, so I know that I am not alone. I don’t fear my solitude, I use it as I should, to look back and remember all the good people I’ve known and how happy they all made me. I keep them all here, in my heart. They are always with me too.”

“Old man, you’re senile. I was there. All you ever did was complain. That didn’t look anything like happiness to me. You wouldn’t really lie to a liar, would you? That would be some joke, all right.”

“What we humans are prone to doing is failing to live in the moment,” the old man said, a smile highlighted by the fire’s glow. “The gift of God is that we remember later, and we know we were loved by others and that we loved others. Those times we remember happily, not with regret or guilt. Most times, folks understand what others are going through and never stop loving them. Sometimes,” he said thoughtfully, “it made us love each other even more.”

The Devil fell silent, for he had no clue what love was, having only ever loved himself; he had no words for the old man. Instead, he became enraged:

“You arrogant–“

“It is not I who is arrogant. I lost that disability long ago. I simply don’t have any reason to pity you. All you do is ruin souls so you won’t be lonely. You know what? Nobody there with you will love you or worship you. They’ll curse you to the very end of time.”

And with that, the ferocity of the Devil was unleashed. Contemptuous, face crimson, he roared, “Old man, you are mine! I won! Look at yourself, you’re a wreck, bent and wheezing and ever in pain! Why would a loving god do such terrible things to his children?”

“My earthly father never loved me. He would love to see me now, as you do, a suffering, beaten shell. But he can’t see me. You have him caged for now. At the Great Judgement, he’s yours for keeps, I’m sure. But my father in heaven never allowed you to do more than I brought on myself, or what evil men were given the power to. He was always there afterwards when I cried and had nightmares and felt the pain of my wounds inside and out. What good did you ever do?”

The Devil was silent once again.

“You don’t get it, do you?” the old man asked. “That is why you failed. In a single prayer, there’s more power than any you’ve been given. In three words, a puny human can invoke the power you never had. When I told someone ‘I love you,’ it was real and you can’t beat it. You never could and you never will. Love, forgiveness, empathy, these things you can’t defeat, and I will feel them until my time is up.”

“You don’t know what power is. You’re a rotting carcass. How dare you claim greater power than I?”

“You’re a sore loser,” the old man chuckled. “The spiritual equivalent of a bully and a pusher and a pimp. Nothing more. Your delusional version of power comes from the weaknesses of every human, and we all fall victim to it. But we have a way out, and you must really hate that. You can leave now. I need to sleep a bit.”

The Devil left as silently as he had arrived, and the old man smiled, falling asleep with thousands of faces and memories in his mind.

Pretty soon, the firelight died, and the old man went off to meet his maker, his soul intact.

And in a very dark place, there was a mighty roar of anger and defeat.