The Day I Fell — But Didn’t Break

I was just a little boy, around seven or eight years old. It was one of those warm afternoons when everything felt ordinary until it wasn’t. My cousin, who was much older than me, around fifteen or maybe twenty, came over to visit. He had always been the mischievous kind, someone I both admired and feared a little. To me, he was older, stronger, and someone who knew the world better.

That day, he smiled and said, Let’s go to the rooftop. It will be fun.
Without thinking, I followed. I was innocent, trusting, and far too young to understand what was about to happen.

The rooftop was quiet, except for the sound of the wind brushing past the walls. The sun was setting, painting everything in shades of gold and orange. We stood there for a moment, looking down at the ground far below. It didn’t look dangerous to me—just far away.

Then he said something strange:
Let’s both jump down from here. It’s not that high. You go first.

I hesitated. My heart started to beat faster. No, I said softly, you go first.
He looked at me, smiled again this time, not like before. There was something cold in his eyes.

Before I could move or understand, I felt a strong push on my back.
And then l was falling.

For a moment, everything froze. The wind rushed past my ears. The ground came closer and closer, and I thought — this is the end. My young mind couldn’t even form the word death, but my heart understood it.

Then… I hit the ground.

But I didn’t break.
Not a bone, not a drop of blood. Just shock. Pure, frozen shock.

I heard shouting. My aunt screamed. My mother came running. My cousin looked down from the roof, his face pale and blank. He didn’t say a word. I remember my mother holding me tight, her tears falling onto my face, her voice trembling, you’re alive… thank God, you’re alive.

At that age, I didn’t know what miracles were. But that day, I learned.

My cousin never apologised. He didn’t even meet my eyes after that. Maybe he felt guilt. Maybe not. But I didn’t hate him. I couldn’t. I just kept thinking — why did he do it? We weren’t enemies. We were family.

As years passed, I understood that sometimes, betrayal doesn’t come from strangers — it comes from the people we trust the most. And yet, even in betrayal, God can show His mercy.

That fall could have ended my story before it ever began. But it didn’t. It became the moment that shaped me — taught me to trust carefully, to forgive deeply, and to never forget that life only ends when God decides it should.

Today, when I look back, I don’t feel anger. I feel gratitude. Because that day could have been my last. Instead, it became the first time I realised that every breath we take is a gift.

So now, whenever I face hardship or pain, I remember the sound of the wind that day — the fall, the fear, and the miracle. I remember that even when the world pushes you down, you can still stand up again — if it’s written for you to live.

And that’s what I did.
I fell.
But I didn’t break.


Moral of the Story:
When life pushes you to the edge, and even your loved ones turn against you — remember, if God is still holding your breath, then He’s not done with your story yet. 🌤️

That day taught me something I’ll never forget — when people push you down, God can still lift you higher. Pain, betrayal, or fear can’t break you if you choose to stand again. I was only a child then, but I learned that true strength is not in avoiding the fall, it’s in surviving it.