The Beauty of a White Rose

I was killing time walking through a Big Bazaar type store, when I overheard a cashier tell a young boy who couldn't have been more than 6 or 7 years old, “Son, I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll.”

The little boy looked at the cashier and asked, “Are you sure?''

 The cashier politely took time to count the boy's money again and replied, ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy the doll, dear.''

The little boy stood silent while still holding the doll in his arms. I walked over and asked him who he wished to buy the doll for. “My sister.  It is the doll she loved and wanted so much. I wanted to give it to her for her birthday on Friday.”

He went on to say; “I have to have the doll today so I can give the doll to my Mommy tonight so that she can give it to my sister when she goes to live with her tonight.  My sister has gone to live with God and Daddy says that Mommy will be going to live with God soon too so I thought Mommy could take the doll with her to give it to my sister on Friday.''

My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, "I asked my Daddy to tell Mommy to wait until I come back with the doll.” Then the little boy reached in his pocket and pulled out a picture of him laughing with a little girl and said, “I want Mommy to take my picture with her so my sister won't forget me. I don’t want Mommy to leave me, but Daddy says that she has to go to be with my sister." Then he squeezed the doll against his chest as tears fell from his eyes.

I slowly put my hand in my pocket and grabbed a few bills I had and said, "Son, suppose we count your money one more time just in case you do have enough money for the doll?''

"Okay he said. I sure hope I do have enough." As we counted his money, I discreetly added several of my dollar bills to his pile. When we were done counting, low and behold there was enough for the doll and even some money to spare.

The boy looked up and quietly said, "Thank you God for giving me enough money!" Then he looked at me and added, "Last night before I went to sleep I asked God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll for my sister.” I also wanted to ask him for some money to buy a white rose for my Mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for that because I thought I would be asking too much. But look what God did. He gave me enough to buy the doll and also enough to buy a white rose for Mommy because she loves white roses."

I finished my shopping with a totally different state of mind from when I started. I couldn't get that little kid out of my mind. As I was checking out, I suddenly remembered a newspaper article from a few days earlier which mentioned a drunken driver hit a car occupied by a young woman and her little girl. The girl died at the scene but the mother was taken to the hospital and was in a critical condition. The family, I recall, was asked to make a decision whether to pull the plug on the life support machine because the woman would not be able to recover from her coma. I wondered if that was the family of the little boy who wanted to buy his sister a doll.

The next day on my way to work I bought a paper.  A story featured on the front page was about a young woman who passed late last night because her family had instructed her doctors to pull the plug. I don’t know why but during my lunch break - I went to a nearby florist and bought a dozen white roses and drove to the funeral home that was listed in the paper. The room was full and up front was a casket for family and friends to make their last visit before the burial would occur.

I walked towards the casket and as I neared it I saw a young lady holding a beautiful a white rose in her hand. Next to the rose was a photo of a little boy and a girl laughing and over her chest was placed a doll – a doll I had seen the night before. I immediately turned around and left the funeral home as my eyes filled with tears. On that day I learned the simple beauty of a while rose and a little toy doll.

Who Was That Man

A nurse on the intensive care ward took the tired and anxious looking serviceman to the bedside. "Your son is here," she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened.

Heavily sedated because of the pain he was experiencing, he dimly saw a young man in uniform standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The young man wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp hand and squeezed a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so the young military man could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young man sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. 

Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the young man take a break and go for a walk; however he refused.

Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the uniformed man was oblivious to her and all the other night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients. 

Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words to the dying man who said nothing, all he did was hold on tightly to his son's hand all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died. The young man released the now lifeless man's hand he had been holding all night and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, the young man patiently waited.

Finally, she turned to the young man and started to offer words of sympathy, but the man in uniform interrupted her and asked "Who was that man?"  

The nurse was startled, "Why he was your father," she answered. 

"No Ma' am', he wasn't my father, "I never saw this man before in my life. My dad is doing fine I just saw him yesterday."

"Then why didn't you say something when I took you into his room?" asked the nurse. 

The young man replied "I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew that man needed his son at his side and his son wasn't here.

When I realized he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son and knowing how much he needed someone to be at his side, I just stayed." 

“I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey; his son was killed in Iraq today, and I was sent to inform him. What was this gentleman's name?

The nurse, with tears in her eyes, answered, "Son, that was Mr. Grey."