“Good Morning!” A red faced young man said, trying to get the attention of the crowd of people in the lobby. “I’m glad that you could all come this morning to visit us here at the wax factory! We have every kind of wax here that you could imagine.”
“Mom, why did we have to come here?” A boy asked.
“Because it’s educational. Besides, you’re the one who said that you would like to go do something for an afternoon with Jackie, so…”
“But I meant something like the beach, or a park– or at least McDonalds!”
“Hush, she’s coming back from getting her drink, and our tour is about to begin.” Jackie returned to the group, wiping off her mouth with her sleeve.
“Tom, I thought that we were going to–” Jackie said, over the noise of the crowd. The noise died down, so the two broke into a whisper.
“I know. I know. This is my mom’s idea, not mine.”
“I can just imagine what your folks did as kids. I bet that one week it was the automobile factory, the next the fire station, the police station, and–”
“Fine.” Jackie closed, as the group started the tour.
“This is the vat in which our wax is first melted,” the tour guide commented.
“I can’t believe this,” Jackie said, aloud.
“Believe it or not, miss, it’s true.” Turning a bit red, she hid behind Tom. They continued their tour, until Tom spotted a door to the side of a wall, moving toward it, he grabbed Jackie’s arm, and she followed. Turning the knob, Tom opened the door, and when nobody was looking, they both sneaked inside. Flipping on a light switch, Jackie shut the door. She jumped backwards a bit, as she stared at the wall. Cobwebs filled the room, and a spider had just climbed back to safety when she jumped.
“Where are we?” Jackie inquired.
“I’m not sure. Look, there’s a couple of letters on the wall.”
“H-S. I wonder what that means.”
“Maybe High School?”
“Hmm. Look at all these filing cabinets. I wonder what’s in them, besides spiders.”
“Well, let’s look.” Tom said, grabbing a hold of one of the handles. Pressing a button, the drawer slid open. Inside, the drawer was remarkably clean. Looking inside, he saw many pieces of paper. Pulling one out, he looked around it. “I wonder what this is.” Flipping it over, he went to break the seal that held it together.
“NO!! Wait! It’s got the same seal as those letters on the wall.”
“So, what do you want me to do? Just put it back?!”
“Look. Here’s a chart describing the contents of the cabinets.” Jackie pointed to a chart on the wall. Tom dusted it off with a nearby rag and started looking at the words.
“I can’t make it out. It looks like some foreign language.”
“Awe, we might as well just put it back,” said Jackie. They placed the piece of paper back in the cabinet and continued to look around. “Hey, there’s a door back here.”
“Let’s see where it leads!”
Walking back to the door, Tom dusted the dusted off the window with the sleeve of his shirt. While brushing it off, Jackie looked inside.
“Tom! Look!” Jackie exclaimed. Tom quit dusting and looked inside. “It looks like some kind of office.”
“I think I see someone moving around inside,” said Jackie. As she was leaning on the door, it started to open. Tom grabbed it quickly in order to keep it from opening all the way. The two exchanged glances, then looked inside. Peering inside, they saw what looked like a factory. People we running to and fro throughout the place. Tom opened the door a little further, and the two of them crawled into the main room on their hands and knees. Crawling underneath one of the tables, Jackie said, “Who are all these–”
“Shh,” whispered Tom. “We don’t want them to hear us.” They continued to watch the people scurry about, and decided to try to make it to a door in the corner of the room. Sneaking stealthfully, they made it over to the door, opened it, and snuck inside. Looking around, Tom commented, “This looks like a mail room. Look over there.”
“It looks like some kind of wax melter. Look, I think I see–”
“I think I see someone coming. Quick, hide!” Tom exclaimed. They both jumped for cover inside a large cabinet. Once inside, they opened it a crack to see who was coming inside and what he was doing. A man about the size of Tom walked in and flicked a switch on a machine. He then acted as if he was called and left the room. Quickly climbing out of the closet, the two walked over to look at the sheet of paper.
“Look!” Jackie gasped. “This piece of paper has John’s name on it!” Quickly skimming it, she found that it had a bunch of statistics on John (a friend of theirs), such as Social Security number, Birthdate, and other facts. “I wonder what this is.” Tom noticed the man’s eminent return, and they both got back into the closet. After the man came and left they got out of the closet and looked around. The machine had cooled down, and they started to look at it carefully.
“Don’t touch it! It’s probably very fragile!” Tom warned.
“It’s hot! Look, there’s some wax here! Hey, this looks familiar.”
“That HS. That’s what was on those envelopes outside!”
“Yes, it is,” stated a deep male voice behind them. “And just what, may I ask, do you two think that you are doing in here? This is a maximum security room.”
“I’m sorry, sir. We just left the tour of the wax factory, and before we knew it we were in here.”
“The truth is, we were trying to find out what those envelopes in the older room were.”
“Those, my dear, are records on everyone in the country. For decades, we have been keeping track of everyone in the entire country. All the important information is gathered, sealed, and filed. Now, if you’ll kindly follow me, I’ll show you out of here,” said the man, leading the way. “Oh, and one more thing. You are not to say a word about this place to anyone.”
They left the room and went down a long hallway where they joined the rest of the group which still on the tour. Rejoining the group, and answering the many questions from Tom’s mom, the finished the tour and left the war factory.
We must all remain constantly aware that everything, even our idle thoughts, are taken down with much accuracy. Who we are, what we stand for, where we would like to be and to be doing are all written. So my question to you is, are you living as one who’s life is constantly monitored, or are we flippant with the time we have? Will who we are and what we’ve done count for anything when we stand before our Savior?