Juan Picas: The Boy Who Looked for God

By Monina Mercado

I am Juan Picas, born half of myself. I had only one eye, one ear, one arm, one leg, one
half of a body. My mother wept when she saw me, but loved me as I grew up and never
regarded me as abnormal. My father, too, must have wept although he never spoke of this. He
also took me as I was and loved me as much as he knew how.

I grew in their care; I thrived in their love. As far as I knew I was entire, I thought
myself whole. Like all babies, I learned first to smile and then to coo, to babble, and to know my
mother and father too. I learned to crawl, and sit up and, in time, to toddle.

I learned to speak, but even before that, I learned to laugh. My mother taught me
laughter, perhaps even before I learned to cry. She showered me with good cheer, and constant
delight. She taught me how to sing.

My father taught me how to see. The birds of the sky, the trees, the flowers that grew,
the rains that fell and the winds that roared in the night — these my father spoke of and made me
see how perfect they fitted into our world and made it as lovely as can be.

My father also spoke of people saying that they are on this earth living this life as a test.
All that matters is a life spent doing good. A man should apply his days in work and by his
hands hone his heart in service to God and his fellowmen. Less than his in intent and in labor
done, a man’s days are but in vain. My father said this, and I realized how he directed his days
and wished my life to be.

My father often spoke of God as did my mother. The father in Heaven who made us and
whose will keep us alive. God orders our days from our birth, through our youth and manhood,
through age and through death and after life. He has the whole world in His hands, rules the
beatings of our heart, knows the number of our hair, and loves us in everything whether good or
ill befalls us. All of life’s road lead to Him; the answers to life’s questions lie in Him; the
meaning of life is with Him. My father and mother taught me this and I learned it.

So I grew, a happy child swathed in kindness. My parents sheltered me and kept me

away from prying eyes. I did not know harshness, cruelty, even less, until as a frisky boy I set to
explore the world on my own. When ridicule sprang, I was bewildered, and asked my parents
why other children laughed and poked fun at me.

I had no playmates; I could not make friends. The very young fled in fright. Children as
big as I was, when surprise had ebbed , plied me with questions, to which I could not reply.
Some even threw stones – which always missed, for they hit missing half.

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 Other people stared too, and would not believe their eyes. They whispered about me or
spoke behind their hands. What monster is this? They cried. Who sired him and who bore him
in her womb? They must be accursed.

I could not hear my parents maligned. Without wishing them pain , I knew I had to ask
them; why was I like this and not like all the rest? Why was I born with just half of me and not
one whole as the others are; and where , if they knew, was the other half?

My mother wept, unable to answer. My father bowed his head and held me close. He
did not know the answers, either. He never thought to pursue the question, trusting that God
knew what He was doing when He made me and gave me to my parents to love. My father said,
however, that if I wished I could go myself and seek out God for the answer I was seeking.

I knew I was a grown boy and I could take care of myself. Certainly, I could find the way
to God and I was willing to journey where I must, spending days, nights, months – nay , even
years – to find in Him my entire self.

I set out with my parents’ blessings. I traveled through strange country, walked among
strange men and creatures. “Where are you going?” they always asked. I said I was seeking
God to ask Him why I was born one half of myself and where the other half was.

Nearly everyone, when he learned that it was God whom I sought, had a message for Him
that was a question like mine. I met a creature in the shape of a horse that was tethered with a
short rope. He was hefty, but he wanted to know why his tether was short. Why wasn’t it longer
so that he could wander about and graze on greener pastures? He entrusted me to ask this
question of God.

Another creature I met , also shaped like a horse, had a long tether , which he dragged
about as he wandered and went whenever he pleased. He was so skinny, his bones showing
through. Why was he so thin and ugly? He entrusted me to ask this question of God.

At the crossroads, I met a man who spent his days ostentatiously doing good – helping
those who were lost , burdened and tired, feeding the hungry and giving drink to the thirsty,
binding the wounds of those who where hurt, comforting those who wept. He proclaimed his
deeds and condemned those who did not do as he did. What was his reward for such deeds? He
entrusted me to ask this question of God.

Finally, beside a waterfall , I met a man who hid among the rocks and there robbed the
unsuspecting and the ignorant. He divested them of their possessions and , if they had none, he

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whipped them in his fury, leaving them weak and wounded and worse than poor. He knew he
did wrong. What was his punishment? He entrusted me to ask this question of God.

After much traveling day and night, along smooth roads and on rough, running at times
or stumbling along, falling and rising again, covering miles in a day, going around in circles, my
strength often falling and my heart throbbing with fear but constant in faith, I, at last, reached
God.

He was not the like lightning nor like raging fire. Neither was he like thunder nor like
the fury of wind. He was not blinding like the sun nor distant like the stars. He was gentle as an
evening breeze that caresses my sleeping brow. He was certain like the voices I hear about me in
my waking, at my work and play. And He was real as the most ordinary events of my everyday
life.

I did not have to go far from where I was. In the most usual circumstance of my life,
among those I knew and amid what I always did, there I found God. He was mirrored in my
mother’s gentleness and my father’s wisdom. I was not afraid to speak to Him. First I asked the
questions of men and of creatures I had met and then my own. I learned from His answer that
His ways and His thoughts are not of men.

God said the horse with the short tether knew best how to make of his situation so he was
hefty. The horse with the long tether did not profit from his instincts, so he was deprived of
them. The robber by the waterfall knew that he was doing wrong and seeing the error of his
ways, will make amends and reap his reward with God. But the man at the crossroads who
worked for a reward , showing off his deeds, judging men and condemning those who did not do
as he did, was a vain performer and did not really serve God; he had already reaped his paltry
prize and would not see Him.

And what is to become of me? Do I serve Him, part of myself that I am , the other half
not there? God seemed to smile at my way. I heard Him say that He was glad I had come to
Him at last. I had used my mind well, He said. I had followed my heart well, too. Didn’t I
know that God rewards those who, in every way, seek Him through all their days?

Be whole, God said. Be one whole body. So it was. Now, as a reward for seeking God,
I was whole at last. I sought and found. I journeyed and arrived.

Vocabulary
Write the meaning of the following words in your Literature Notebook.
wept, thrive, swathed, accursed, maligned, tether, ostentatiously, fury, raging, amend