Monday, January 28, 2008

A Touching Story

A touching story and a good reminder : "Take time to appreciate what 
you 
have now."

On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to go to the 
supermarket to buy the remaining of the gift I didn't manage to buy 
earlier. 
When I saw all the people there, I started to complain to myself," It is 
going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go. 
Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year. How I 
wish I 
could just lie down, go to sleep and only wake up after it..."

Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to 
curse 
the prices, wondering if after all kids really play with such expensive 
toys.

While looking in the toy section, I noticed a small boy of about 5 years 
old, pressing a doll against his chest. 
He kept on touching the hair of the doll and looked so sad. I 
wondered who was this doll for. Then the little boy turned to the old 
woman 
next to him, "Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?"

The old lady replied, "You know that you don't have enough money to buy 
this doll, my dear." 
Then she asked him to stay here for 5 minutes while she went to look 
around. She left quickly.

The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.

Finally, I started to walk toward him and I asked him who did he want to 
give this doll to. 
"It is the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this 
Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her."

I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus will bring it to her, 
after all, and not to worry.

But he replied to me sadly. "No, Santa Claus can not bring it to her 
where 
she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can give it 
to 
her when she goes there." His eyes were so sad while saying this. "My 
sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mummy will also go to 
see 
God very soon, so I thought that she could bring the doll with her to 
give 
it to my sister."

My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, "I 
told 
daddy to tell mummy not to go yet. I asked him to wait until I come back 
from the supermarket."

Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He 
then 
told me, "I also want mummy to take this photo with her so that she will 
not forget me." I love my mummy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me 
but 
daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister." 
Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly. 
I quickly reached for my wallet and took a few notes and said to the 
boy, 
"What if we checked again, just in case if you have enough money?" 
"Ok," he said. "I hope that I have enough." 
I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to 
count 
it. There was enough for the doll, and even some spare money. The little 
boy said, "Thank you God for giving me enough money."

Then he looked at me and added, "I asked yesterday before I slept for 
God 
to make sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mummy can give 
it 
to my sister. He heard me." "I also wanted to have enough money to buy a 
white rose for my mummy, but I didn't dare to ask God too much. But He 
gave 
me enough to buy the doll and the white rose." "You know, my mummy loves 
white rose." 
A few minutes later, the old lady came again and I left with my trolley. 

finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started. I 
couldn't get the little boy out of my mind.

Then I remembered a local newspaper article 2 days ago, which 
mentioned of a drunk man in a truck who hit a car where there was one 
young 
lady and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother 
was 
left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the 
plug 
on the life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able 
to 
get out of the coma. 
Was this the family of the little boy? 
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the 
newspaper 
that the young lady had passed away. 
I couldn't stop myself and went to buy a bunch of white roses and I went 
to 
the mortuary where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to 
see and make last wish before burial.

She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand 
with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.

I left the place crying, feeling that my life had been changed forever. 
The 
love that this little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to 
that day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk man 
had 
taken all this away from him.

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