A.N. I was bored. I needed something for the time gap. So this is what I did. Enjoy!
She didn't know how long it had been since the funeral ended nor did she care. Her son, their beautiful little boy, was gone. No warning, no sign of sickness, nothing. Just the discovery of a cold "sleeping" body that dreadful winter morning.
It had been just over a year and a half since they had found the blond baby in the woods, wailing with hunger and sporting only a blanket and a sign reading "I need a family; please take care of me." They did not think of what sort of person would abandon a child like this. All they knew was that God had heard and answered the infertile couple's prayers.
This was during the aftermath of a terrible war and the destruction of the beloved city they called home. Yet they managed to provide for their son, and in return, he brought them unspeakable joy, peace, and hope.
He really was a peculiar child, with the habit of picking up things much faster than other children his age not to mention being stronger. He'd speak to animals as though he understood them and every once in a while be caught singing in an unfamiliar tongue that most certainly wasn't baby talk. Even his scribbles had an alphabet like pattern to them. This never bothered the parents. It only gave them promising dreams of what a smart talented young man he would become one day.
The falling tears soaked into the freshly dug soil. Now that joy was gone, never to return. What remained was unquenchable sorrow, despair, the feeling of abandonment. Now that future was destroyed. What remained was thoughts of what could have been and now never would be. Why? Why would God give them something so precious only to take it back shortly after. Did He not care? They didn't hesitate to work on bringing their son closer to Him, and in return for their devotion, He took what they loved most.
What she wouldn't give to see the child sit in the big chair and stare off into space as he did so often. To see him toddle up to her and her husband and say "Mommy, Daddy, we need to ask God to help such and such a person." She agreed to go along with interceding for his imaginary creatures, but afterwards they'd also include one of their friends to get him in the habit of praying for real people.
This was what he was doing instead of going to sleep the night of his death. Around one or so, he snuck into the next door bedroom and begged his mother to pray for some random guy in the woods so Jesus would give him a light and he wouldn't be afraid of the dark. She, of course, didn't question it. "Is your friend okay?" she asked when they had finished. The boy rubbed his eyes. "I'm too tired; I'll see in the morning." These were his last words.
If she had know, she wouldn't have sent him back to his room. If she had kept an eye on him, maybe she could have stopped whatever it was. Maybe he would have lived. But it was too late now. There was no going back.
The childless mother fell to her knees and sobbed. "Please, Lord, You know I want to trust You, to believe that everything happens for a greater good. Everything just seems so hopeless. Please help us to understand; to rejoice in our son's salvation. For a second, just a second, there was feeling of warmth and peace as though her child was right next to her saying, "Don't cry. Everything will be alright." It was enough. She laid the blue flowers before the grave and looked back as she headed towards the car to wave a sad goodbye and once more read the words etched permanently in the stone.
Josef S Feldmann
7/8/45 – 26/2/47