Disclaimer: My mind has no secrets from me. It says that I do not own Hey
Arnold, so I must not. It also refuses to let me believe I own "Beautiful,
Scandalous Night" by Smalltown Poets. So don't sue me.
A few candles near the altar illuminated the small room. It was empty, as this room so often was, except for a young man slumped in the second pew. His head was bowed, and the evidence of his grief could be heard from the back of the room. The nurse who had pushed open the door to check on the candles heard him, and frowned sympathetically.
Yet another broken hearted soul who has sought this sanctuary of peace in the midst of this raging sea of sorrow, she thought, almost in tears. I wonder why he is here. He seems almost too young to have the kind of sorrow that breaks a heart as much as his heart appears to be broken. However, she did not disturb him in a misapplied gesture of comfort. After a few years in the intensive care unit, one learns to allow the people who retreat to the chapel their sorrow. She silently shut the door and continued on her rounds, wiping a lone tear off her cheek.
Not realizing he was being observed by anyone, Arnold continued his silent struggle and debate with God. Lord, please don't let her die! Or, if someone must die, let me die in her place. Let her stay here. Please don't make me live without her, my love. Please, Father God, please. His mournful and heart-wrenching pleading was met with a stony silence from the heavens. Arnold's spirit fell further into the depths of despair. His inner eye could not see any more hope, and he was perched on the edge of the same cliff that the object of his prayers had almost fallen off of a few days before.
Arnold suddenly realized that he was no longer alone in the room. Gerald, in search of his best friend, had pointed his steps toward the chapel, realizing that Arnold would probably have gone straight there after seeing Helga in her unconscious state. Gerald would have followed him right away, but Phoebe had not been in the best state of mind, and it had taken Gerald a while to calm her down, get her to eat some stale chips from the vending machine, and then settle into the waiting room with The Age of Innocence, to keep Phoebe's mind from concentrating on Helga. He then set off immediately to find Arnold, fearing for his friend's state of mind.
"Hey my man, are you gonna be okay?" Gerald asked, softly, respecting the reverence that resided within this room.
Arnold looked up into the face of the man who had been his best friend since preschool. "She looked so helpless, lying there, Gerald. I have never seen anything else that hurt so much. Her beauty was almost gone, because her radiance comes from the spark of life and passion within her. And it was gone. It was as though," and he choked on the next part, sorrow lowering his voice to the barest whisper, "it was as though she had already left. As though she had already died and her soul had left to dance with the angels." Arnold broke down into tears again, and turned away from Gerald.
Gerald awkwardly placed his hand on his friend's back, unsure of what to do. He could understand Arnold's pain, because he knew what he would feel if it had been Phoebe in that bed. "C'mon, Arnold, let's go back to the waiting room. Perhaps the doctor will allow you to see her again. They always say that talking to a person in a coma helps them to regain consciousness. And perhaps we can try and contact Olga for the hospital. Last I heard, the nurses were still unable to reach her." With that Gerald stood up, pulling Arnold to his feet. The pair slowly left the peace and solitude of the sanctuary, continuing to send up silent prayers for the well being of their friend.
*Go on up to the mountain of mercy
To the crimson perpetual tide
Kneel down on the shore
Be thirsty no more
Go under and be purified
Follow Christ to the holy mountain
Sinner sorry and wrecked by the fall
Cleanse your heart and your soul
In the fountain that flowed
For you and for me and for all
On the hillside, you will be delivered
At the foot of the cross justified
And Your spirit restored
By the river that poured
From our blessed Savior's side.*
"Nana, it's the angel!" The sweet, clear, ringing tones of an innocent voice rang out over the beeping monitors. The elderly woman dressed in nursing scrubs glanced over at the six-year-old cherub standing in the doorway. She smiled indulgently and shook her head over her grandson's fancies. Two days ago, while she was practicing the music for Sunday's service, Michael told her he had seen an angel who had fallen from Heaven in the back of the church, crying. She looked at the woman, pale and listless, lying in the bed. After thirty years of being a nurse in the intensive care unit, she could still barely stand to see young children and teenagers trapped by injuries and head trauma. She looked toward the sky and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the God who had preserved most of her children and her grandchildren, keeping them safe from harm, and added a prayer for the woman in the bed.
When Madeline glanced back at the woman, she was shocked to see Michael standing next to her, touching her hand and whispering to her. "Michael," she called, wondering what her grandson was doing this time.
Michael glanced at his Nana, and then back at the angel. "Good night, angel. Sleep well." He gave her hand one last pat, and ran over to his Nana. "Nana, is she going to go to Heaven with Jesus and Mommy? She said she didn't know where home was, so I told her. Did the angel find her way home, Nana?" Michael's amber eyes pierced into his Nana's.
Madeline bent down and took Michael into her arms. "Oh, baby," she said with a slight crack in her voice. "This isn't an angel. She was in a car accident, and she is in a coma. I don't know if she is going to go home, sweetheart. No one knows if she is ever going to wake up, either." As Madeline finished telling her precocious grandson about the woman, his eyes filled with tears.
"I saw her in church, Nana, I really did. She was crying and said she was lost and I hugged her and told her that we aren't ever lost because Heaven is our home. And then she thanked me, Nana, and I thought I made her feel better. Do you think I made her feel better, Nana?"
Madeline smiled at Michael and hugged him hard. "I am positive that you helped her, Michael. And I am sure she knows where her home is now." Madeline stood up and took his small hand in hers. "I have an idea. Your angel over there has some friends who are very worried about her. Would you like to go speak with them?" At Michael's ecstatic nod, Madeline smiled and led him out of the room and down the hall to the waiting room.
A/N: I am beginning to wrap this story up. Hopefully it will play itself out in the next two or three chapters. I am hoping. I don't know, though. Like I said before, this story has a mind of it's own.
A few candles near the altar illuminated the small room. It was empty, as this room so often was, except for a young man slumped in the second pew. His head was bowed, and the evidence of his grief could be heard from the back of the room. The nurse who had pushed open the door to check on the candles heard him, and frowned sympathetically.
Yet another broken hearted soul who has sought this sanctuary of peace in the midst of this raging sea of sorrow, she thought, almost in tears. I wonder why he is here. He seems almost too young to have the kind of sorrow that breaks a heart as much as his heart appears to be broken. However, she did not disturb him in a misapplied gesture of comfort. After a few years in the intensive care unit, one learns to allow the people who retreat to the chapel their sorrow. She silently shut the door and continued on her rounds, wiping a lone tear off her cheek.
Not realizing he was being observed by anyone, Arnold continued his silent struggle and debate with God. Lord, please don't let her die! Or, if someone must die, let me die in her place. Let her stay here. Please don't make me live without her, my love. Please, Father God, please. His mournful and heart-wrenching pleading was met with a stony silence from the heavens. Arnold's spirit fell further into the depths of despair. His inner eye could not see any more hope, and he was perched on the edge of the same cliff that the object of his prayers had almost fallen off of a few days before.
Arnold suddenly realized that he was no longer alone in the room. Gerald, in search of his best friend, had pointed his steps toward the chapel, realizing that Arnold would probably have gone straight there after seeing Helga in her unconscious state. Gerald would have followed him right away, but Phoebe had not been in the best state of mind, and it had taken Gerald a while to calm her down, get her to eat some stale chips from the vending machine, and then settle into the waiting room with The Age of Innocence, to keep Phoebe's mind from concentrating on Helga. He then set off immediately to find Arnold, fearing for his friend's state of mind.
"Hey my man, are you gonna be okay?" Gerald asked, softly, respecting the reverence that resided within this room.
Arnold looked up into the face of the man who had been his best friend since preschool. "She looked so helpless, lying there, Gerald. I have never seen anything else that hurt so much. Her beauty was almost gone, because her radiance comes from the spark of life and passion within her. And it was gone. It was as though," and he choked on the next part, sorrow lowering his voice to the barest whisper, "it was as though she had already left. As though she had already died and her soul had left to dance with the angels." Arnold broke down into tears again, and turned away from Gerald.
Gerald awkwardly placed his hand on his friend's back, unsure of what to do. He could understand Arnold's pain, because he knew what he would feel if it had been Phoebe in that bed. "C'mon, Arnold, let's go back to the waiting room. Perhaps the doctor will allow you to see her again. They always say that talking to a person in a coma helps them to regain consciousness. And perhaps we can try and contact Olga for the hospital. Last I heard, the nurses were still unable to reach her." With that Gerald stood up, pulling Arnold to his feet. The pair slowly left the peace and solitude of the sanctuary, continuing to send up silent prayers for the well being of their friend.
*Go on up to the mountain of mercy
To the crimson perpetual tide
Kneel down on the shore
Be thirsty no more
Go under and be purified
Follow Christ to the holy mountain
Sinner sorry and wrecked by the fall
Cleanse your heart and your soul
In the fountain that flowed
For you and for me and for all
On the hillside, you will be delivered
At the foot of the cross justified
And Your spirit restored
By the river that poured
From our blessed Savior's side.*
"Nana, it's the angel!" The sweet, clear, ringing tones of an innocent voice rang out over the beeping monitors. The elderly woman dressed in nursing scrubs glanced over at the six-year-old cherub standing in the doorway. She smiled indulgently and shook her head over her grandson's fancies. Two days ago, while she was practicing the music for Sunday's service, Michael told her he had seen an angel who had fallen from Heaven in the back of the church, crying. She looked at the woman, pale and listless, lying in the bed. After thirty years of being a nurse in the intensive care unit, she could still barely stand to see young children and teenagers trapped by injuries and head trauma. She looked toward the sky and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the God who had preserved most of her children and her grandchildren, keeping them safe from harm, and added a prayer for the woman in the bed.
When Madeline glanced back at the woman, she was shocked to see Michael standing next to her, touching her hand and whispering to her. "Michael," she called, wondering what her grandson was doing this time.
Michael glanced at his Nana, and then back at the angel. "Good night, angel. Sleep well." He gave her hand one last pat, and ran over to his Nana. "Nana, is she going to go to Heaven with Jesus and Mommy? She said she didn't know where home was, so I told her. Did the angel find her way home, Nana?" Michael's amber eyes pierced into his Nana's.
Madeline bent down and took Michael into her arms. "Oh, baby," she said with a slight crack in her voice. "This isn't an angel. She was in a car accident, and she is in a coma. I don't know if she is going to go home, sweetheart. No one knows if she is ever going to wake up, either." As Madeline finished telling her precocious grandson about the woman, his eyes filled with tears.
"I saw her in church, Nana, I really did. She was crying and said she was lost and I hugged her and told her that we aren't ever lost because Heaven is our home. And then she thanked me, Nana, and I thought I made her feel better. Do you think I made her feel better, Nana?"
Madeline smiled at Michael and hugged him hard. "I am positive that you helped her, Michael. And I am sure she knows where her home is now." Madeline stood up and took his small hand in hers. "I have an idea. Your angel over there has some friends who are very worried about her. Would you like to go speak with them?" At Michael's ecstatic nod, Madeline smiled and led him out of the room and down the hall to the waiting room.
A/N: I am beginning to wrap this story up. Hopefully it will play itself out in the next two or three chapters. I am hoping. I don't know, though. Like I said before, this story has a mind of it's own.