Once upon a time, there lived a man. He was hardworking yet always drunk; drinking was his middle name and nobody respected him. He would do many menial jobs and afterwards, spend some time at the bar, caring about nothing but himself. He had no wife or kids.
He never attended church or mosque. Many came preaching to him to change his ways and seek God because his life was a mess but he ignored.
One day he died and nobody seemed to care. Those who did couldn’t sympathize with him. They said all manner of bad things and many wondered if he’ll make it past heaven’s gate.
“That drunk is dead? I doubt he even had time to repent.” Someone said.
On the day of his funeral, very few people mourned with his family. It wasn’t like a celebration of life. There was absolutely nothing to celebrate, they thought.
During the sermon, the pastor shouted. “Let us pray for this man for his soul is at peace in the Lord’s bosom.”
Just before he was ushered to the cemetery, there came a group of children led by an elderly woman. They wailed and wailed after realizing their father was indeed gone.
“Do you know this man?” One nosy guest asked.
“Yes we do.” The elderly woman replied in a wobbly voice.
“We are from the orphanage located two towns away. This man right there is father to these kids. Several years he’s been providing them with their needs; clothes, books, money etc. He drops by every month to give a large percentage of his income to these kids.”
As the audience listened in awe, she continued.
“He suddenly stopped passing by and we thought we should come and find out if he’s okay.” She continued in tears.
“Please DO NOT JUDGE HIM for he’s a good man.”
Everyone went mute.
And they led his body away.