The Useless Nail

(Journalism students were asked to write stories about these nails. In celebration of Easter, we would like to share some of these over the next week.

HE IS RISEN!)

He screamed a bloodcurdling scream. His frail body was bloody from the top of his head down to his toes. The guards handling me threw me down and grabbed a hammer.
My point hit the flesh. Deeper and deeper I was shoved into this poor man’s wrist. All that went through my iron, flat head was the question of “What did this man do to deserve having me shoved through his fragile wrist?”. 
The guards were not sad, in fact, they were laughing! My stiff shaft now impaling this poor man’s arm, my point piercing thick wood. The man repeating a single verse. 

He kept asking his father to help him. 
Obviously his father could not hear him, he was placed upon a cross and he was whispering. Only I and the other nails could hear this man. He was not evil enough to be a criminal, he seemed kind and warm. Something was wrong, this man should not be on 
this cross with my unbending body sticking through him.
The thick layer of blood on my shaft made me think hard. This man’s blood felt strange on me. I had an alarming sense telling that this man should not be here. I wanted to know who he was, so I sat quietly and listened. 
The guards laughed around and taunted this man. When he asked for a drink, they gave him vinegar. When they retrieved all of his clothes, the guards gambled them 
off. Throughout all of this, the guards continued to taunt this man calling him “Lord” and
“Master”. 
The shock came to me, he was not an ordinary man, he was Jesus. The Jesus. I was nervous. Nervous that I was touching Him. I had holy blood covering my cold, metal shaft. My view on everything changed. I despised the guards. Why were they laughing at the Son of God? 

All of the events I witnessed came back to me. The whole time the guard was 
holding me in his moist, sweaty hands as we walked through the streets people 
surrounded us. The guards shoved away all kinds of people. They all seemed to hate 
Jesus, then others loved him. 
Some women weeped and wiped his face. Some men arose and spat into his 
face. I could not understand what was happening at the time, but now I did. I sat and 
thought about this wonderful Jesus. He was our Savior, well the Savior that all humans had been longing for. I am just a speechless, inanimate nail. Now, humans could live forever.
I heard a ticking and a rustling. The cross was being taken down. All of it happened fast. I was placed to the side like I meant nothing. Men carried Jesus’ body to a tomb. The rock I was placed on was a spot that I could perfectly see the tomb of Jesus. How was he a Savior? He was dead. That made no sense. I was forgotten. A 
blood stained nail just laid on a rock and forgotten. 
Three days later, I saw two glowing figures. They removed the stone blocking the 
entrance to the tomb. There he came. Jesus alive. He walked over to me and wiped me off with cloak. I was mortified. I was in the hands of a Savior. 
I was placed back down, clean, and never remembered. However, I will remember the day that Jesus held the useless nail.

Photography by senior Erin McGrew
Article written by freshman Makenzie Ashley

Have a wonderful weekend...remember tonight's movie under the stars, baseball game, and The Battle of The Bands tomorrow!