“Is it time?” the little angel asked.
“Not yet,” soothed the voice, “patience.”
The angel sat, chin in his chubby hands, and waited and watched. He saw day turn to night and night turn to day. Still he waited.
Days, weeks and months passed by while the little angel watched from above. And then it happened. Dawn began to brighten the sky and the angel could feel the excitement, a stirring on the golden streets. Could this be the day?
“Not yet,” soothed the voice, “patience.”
The angel sat, chin in his chubby hands, and waited and watched. He saw day turn to night and night turn to day. Still he waited.
Days, weeks and months passed by while the little angel watched from above. And then it happened. Dawn began to brighten the sky and the angel could feel the excitement, a stirring on the golden streets. Could this be the day?
“Alright little one, it’s time. We’re ready. Bring him home.”
The angel sped to earth, the gift firmly in his grasp. He descended to the side of a warrior, a prince, a king. “Who’re you?” asked the boy.
“I’m an angel,” he replied. “I’ve come to bring you home.”
The boy stared in wonder. “You have wings. Real ones.”
“Yup. Father wants us home. Ready?”
The little boy looked to the bed where his mother laid, tears on her cheeks, holding his hand. “What about my mom? I can’t leave her. She’ll be sad and she’ll miss me.”
The little angel pondered this a moment. “But He’ll turn their mourning into joy. He will comfort them and give them joy for their sorrow.”
The boy thought for a minute. “I don’t know. She loves me an awful lot. All the way to China.”
“I love you, Munchkin. It’s gonna be okay. I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.
They stopped to listen, her words carrying in the still of the room.
The angel sped to earth, the gift firmly in his grasp. He descended to the side of a warrior, a prince, a king. “Who’re you?” asked the boy.
“I’m an angel,” he replied. “I’ve come to bring you home.”
The boy stared in wonder. “You have wings. Real ones.”
“Yup. Father wants us home. Ready?”
The little boy looked to the bed where his mother laid, tears on her cheeks, holding his hand. “What about my mom? I can’t leave her. She’ll be sad and she’ll miss me.”
The little angel pondered this a moment. “But He’ll turn their mourning into joy. He will comfort them and give them joy for their sorrow.”
The boy thought for a minute. “I don’t know. She loves me an awful lot. All the way to China.”
“I love you, Munchkin. It’s gonna be okay. I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.
They stopped to listen, her words carrying in the still of the room.
“We’ll be okay. Cody and Jacob are waiting for you. Say ‘hi’ to Jesus for me. You won’t hurt anymore, so be sure to run and play. Goodnight, baby. I love you.”
The boy watched as his mother reached out and laid a hand on his chest. He felt the warmth spread inside and the heat of love settle in his heart. The pain melted away.
“These are for you.” The angel handed the boy his gift and waited as he unwrapped the bow.
“My own set of wings?” he asked in awe.
“Uh-huh. Bright yellow ones, ‘cause that’s your favorite color. Now you can chase the sunshine.”
The boy slipped the wings on and waited. “How do they work?”
“You gotta listen and let go.” The boy stood still and waited.
“Come home, son. I’m waiting.”
He felt the wings begin to flutter, the anticipation of returning home. He looked one last time towards his mother.
“Fly high, ‘lil man.”
And he did.
“These are for you.” The angel handed the boy his gift and waited as he unwrapped the bow.
“My own set of wings?” he asked in awe.
“Uh-huh. Bright yellow ones, ‘cause that’s your favorite color. Now you can chase the sunshine.”
The boy slipped the wings on and waited. “How do they work?”
“You gotta listen and let go.” The boy stood still and waited.
“Come home, son. I’m waiting.”
He felt the wings begin to flutter, the anticipation of returning home. He looked one last time towards his mother.
“Fly high, ‘lil man.”
And he did.
For King Julian, 4, who won his battle with cancer and earned his wings Saturday, Jan. 19, 2008. And for his parents who talked him straight into the arms of Jesus.
Thank you for sharing your precious boy with the world. He touched many hearts and changed many lives.
