A 'Touched by an Angel Story'

By: Yvette Jessen

© 2001 not intended to infringe on any previously held copyrights.

87-year-old Harry Norman was ready to go, he had lived a long and full life and he was ready to see his wife again. She had died some four years ago and he missed her terribly. The only drawback to departing this life was the worries he held for his only son and grandson. His grandson David had just turned 12, and neither he nor his single father, were involved in the church. Harry had wished that they had been, but he knew that mentioning this to his son was out of the question.

George Norman was a son every father could be proud of, but any mention of religion or God sent him into a tirade, and Harry had known this ever since his son had finished at the University and started medical school in order to became a doctor. Now, he had a 12-year-old grandson who would no doubt be confused and unhappy with his passing.

He lay in bed asleep this night, the dreamless sleep that had overtaken him would rouse him in and out of consciousness, the walls of the room where he lay were white and without any sort of feeling. He had been in this room for almost a month and he hated it, it was so unlike him, boring and lifeless. He opened his eyes again to be encompassed with a dark room. "Where are you?" he muttered to the stillness. "God, I'm ready to come home. I can't go on existing this way. I want to be free, already!"

As if by impulse, Harry closed his eyes and when he could feel a presence beside him, he opened his eyes again and smiled. "It's about time you decided to show up, do you know how long I've been waiting for you?"

The Angel of Death named Andrew smiled weakly. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Harry, I got here as quickly as I could."

"Yeah, yeah, what's your name, young fella?" the old man grumbled.

"My name's Andrew," the angel answered, his eyes shining brightly when he looked at Harry and could see the impatience in the old man's eyes.

"Well, Andrew, let's get the show on the road."

"You're not afraid?" Andrew asked.

"Heck no," Harry said as though it was the most common knowledge in the world. "My Bettina is waiting up there for me, and I've been anticipating this ever since my son brought me to this bumbling nursing home. You know, none of those folks could whip up a lemon meringue pie like my wife. They have the biggest load of incompetents I have ever seen in this place."

"I sense a 'but' coming," Andrew said gently.

"Yeah, you're a good judge of what's buggin' someone," Harry shook his head sadly. "It's nothing about me, I'm happy to see you, but, it's about my son, Dr. George Norman; Mr. Logic, Mr. 'there's an explanation to everything', himself. You know, he has a reason for everything, God, the universe, and even why they put those stupid little 'do not remove' tags on mattresses. But, he would never be able to explain all this to David. That's my only reservation about this whole thing."

"Could you please elaborate?" Andrew asked.

"Oh, don't think for a second that I didn't notice how David would worry himself into a stupor about his family after Bettina died. I know he would lie in bed each night worrying that something was gonna happen to his daddy or me. I see him the following mornin' and he's all tired and I'd be convinced that he'd fall asleep in his oatmeal," he paused. "The fact is, Andrew, he doesn't understand death the way we do, or at the very least, the way you do. No one's ever explained it to him so he probably has these gruesome images about it rather than what really happens. Let's face it, after Bettina died; he couldn't even talk to his daddy without seeing him get a chip on his shoulder about it. I know he loved his mother, but he's convinced that death is the end, and not the beginning. It hurt George and David, I could see it in both their eyes, but neither of them would talk to me about it and I didn't want to push my beliefs on them. I suppose the reason David didn't talk to me was because he figured that I would react the same way his daddy did."

"You weren't sad after she died?"

"Sure I was, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. Later I realized that she's with God, and I have the faith that He'd always take care of her and I knew that one day I'd join them both," he smiled. "My faith is what sustained me after she died. I'd talk to her at night, and sometimes when I was really concentrating, I could hear her reply. It was beautiful, so I knew that she wouldn’t have wanted me to do what George did and harbor the grief away."

Andrew smiled and looked at Harry. "What can I do to help?"

"Could you maybe go see my grandson after all this is over?" Harry asked. "I know this ain't part of your job description, but David needs to hear this, and who better to tell than an Angel of Death? I know this sounds a trifle selfish of me to ask this of you, but you're good and kind, and I know David will see that in you as well."

Andrew closed his eyes and after a few moments, he looked at Harry and nodded. "I'll do as you ask."

"Thank you," Harry said and smiled, his face depicting his relief. "Now I'm really ready."

The man closed his eyes and reached for Andrew's hand. As he and Andrew walked to the light, the angel smiled. These kinds of assignments were always nice for him and Harry really was a nice person even though he was a bit gruff at first. As they reached the light, Harry turned to him. "I'll find my way, Andrew, but please remember your promise. I truly believe that you're going to be able to help David."

"I will do my best, Harry, you can count on that." Andrew stood for a few moments watching the newfound energy in Harry Norman. As the 87-year-old man practically ran into the waiting arms of the Father, Andrew smiled. Now he has the vitality of the 20-year-old.

He returned to Earth, his next assignment, a 12-year-old boy who didn't understand death.

~*~*~*~*~

The phone rang early that morning rousing David from his sleep. He glanced over at his alarm clock and could see that the red numbers illuminated 3 O'clock. He listened for the sounds in the house, and he could hear his father answering the call. He shifted in bed, his stuffed rabbit falling to the floor and he reached down to retrieve it. Once he had it in his hands he could hear the muffled sobs emerging from his father's room.

He crawled out of bed and walked slowly out of his room and down the hall towards his father's room. When he saw his father sitting on the bed with a wadded up tissue in his hand, he knew something was wrong. "Dad?" he asked, his voice somewhere between scared and concerned.

George looked up brushing the tears stubbornly out of his eyes. "What are you doing out of bed? You have school tomorrow."

"I heard the phone," David replied. "What happened?"

"Your grandfather passed away tonight, that was the nurse from the nursing home," George said sadly and began to grumble. "Some service those people provide."

David could see the anger in his father's eyes, and this would not allow him to cry even though he was tempted to collapse onto his father's bed and cry until there were no more tears left.

"Go back to bed," George finally told his son. "We can talk about this tomorrow."

David nodded, "Yes Sir," he said weakly and walked slowly out of his father's room and down the hall. Deep inside, he knew that his father wouldn't talk to him about this; this was just his father's way of shoving him aside and not explaining anything to him. Sighing sadly, he crawled back under the covers and laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He could feel the tears beginning to stream down his cheeks, but he tried to hold back making any noise. The last thing he wanted was for his father to get angry with him.

After awhile, sleep did eventually overcome him and the next time he opened his eyes he could hear his father tapping on the door.

"Come on David, time to get up. The school bus will be here in twenty minutes," George was saying.

David sighed and crawled out of bed. Typical, he thought, that promised conversation would not come, and he would have to go to school. All he could think of at that moment was his grandfather, so he figured that he would probably get into trouble daydreaming in class. Specifically in Mrs. Daly's history class because she carried herself, as though she hated everyone. He wondered often why she even had become a teacher, because she obviously would have been better off as a prison guard. She's such a witch, he thought grimly.

As he pulled on a T-shirt and grabbed his favorite pair of jeans, he sighed deeply as he remembered his friend, Josh, who had lost an uncle the previous week. He didn't show up at school after the death, he was able to stay with family and friends and grieve properly. With his father, he wasn't even able to cry without feeling stupid. Death was something he could not comprehend, and the questions about it buzzed around in his anxious mind. If only there was someone he could talk about all of this to.

As soon as he was dressed, David reached for his backpack and began shoving his schoolbooks inside. One that was done, he walked slowly out of his room.

When he got to the kitchen, he could see his father, dressed in a suit and tie, and ready to go to work. It was almost as though nothing had happened last night, that his grandfather had not died, and that there was not any sort of hole left in their lives. He wanted to ask his father about what happens when someone dies, but when he looked into George's gleaming eyes, he could do nothing but conclude that it was better not to say anything at all.

He grabbed a pop tart and after attempting a halfway cheerful 'bye' to his father, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. The sun was shining and the sky was as blue as the irises that his grandmother used to plant in her garden when she was alive. Sighing deeply, he dug his hands in his pockets and walked out onto the sidewalk, which would lead to the bus stop. As he got closer, he could see some of the other kids waiting for him, and he approached, all the while trying to keep his voice cheerful.

"Hey guys, how's it going?" he said, but his energy was just not there.

"Hi David," one of the girls said. "Pretty cool, how 'bout with you?"

"OK," he offered as the bus pulled up and they got on board. He could see his best friend, Josh Farris, seated in their usual seat and he went and sat down next to him. Josh looked more refreshed after having been with his family, and he looked to be somewhat more cheerful than David himself was now feeling.

"Hey, what happened to you? We haven't even had gym class yet and you look like you got run over by a semi," Josh began.

"My grandfather died last night," David said softly.

"And you're actually going to school? Man, that's rough," Josh said. "I'm sorry David. I know how you feel, I mean I still miss my Uncle Steve, but Mom said that he wouldn’t want me to be sad, and that I should try and get used to my life again."

"I know, you weren't in school the last three days," David said. "I copied down the assignments for English for you, they're in my locker. I'll give them to you when we get there."

"Thanks," he offered. "My mom thought it'd be better if I stayed at home for a few days. I got a note that I was with my family up till yesterday. That was the day of the funeral," Josh said. "But why are you even here?"

"My dad told me I had to come today," David said. "He tells me he going to explain, but he doesn't, it's just like when my grandma died. I tried to ask him about it, and he got this sort of agonized look on his face, but he wouldn't answer. Do you know what happens?"

"No, but I guess people go to heaven and become angels," Josh said shrugging his shoulders. "I guess it's an adult thing to not tell us. Maybe they don't know either."

David nodded. "But my dad's really smart, and he's a doctor, so he should know."

"So you'd think he'd know, right?" Josh asked.

"Yeah, but I keep thinking it must be really awful because he won't tell me," David said and shuddered self-consciously. "I mean, you've seen those horror films down at the cinema, right? Maybe it's something like that."

"Yeah, pretty gruesome," Josh said softly, but his voice sounded sad and he looked at his friend. "I hope those movies aren't really like it is, because I'd like to think my Uncle is in a nice place," Josh said sadly. "I know you'd want your grandpa to be happy too."

David nodded halfheartedly, "yeah."

~*~*~*~*~

As the bus arrived at the school, across the courtyard, Andrew could see the two boys getting off. It surprised him to see David, but from what Harry had told him the night before, it seemed to go along with George's logical ideas that his son would be in school as a way of denying what had actually happened. The angel could tell just by looking at David that that the boy knew what had happened.

He walked towards the building, and could see some of the kids had stopped moving and were now staring at him. He smiled and went inside the building. Upon coming inside he could see Monica and Tess standing in the hallway waiting for him.

"You're here too?" he asked them once he approached.

"Yes, Angel Boy, we were sent to help Josh Farris, his mother, and sister," Tess said.

"Isn't that David's friend?" Andrew asked. "It's the boy that was with him when they got off the bus."

"Yes," Monica replied. "It's his first day back in school since his uncle's death, and we were sent here to help him adjust to the grief. What about you?"

"I took David's grandfather home last night, and made a promise to Harry that I would try to help David understand what had happened," Andrew said.

Tess nodded and smiled. "Yes, I hear that David's daddy is not a very faith oriented person. I suppose he lost that faith when his wife died giving birth to David 12-years-ago."

They turned and could see Josh and David walking though the halls together, both boys unusually quiet. As the two boys passed the three angels, Tess shook her head sadly. "Come on Miss Wings, we've got our work cut out for us on this one."

The two of them disappeared, and Andrew was left alone in the hall.

"Hey Mister, you lost?" the voice of a girl interrupted his thoughts.

"Not really," he replied and looked at the girl addressing him. He smiled as he regarded her. She appeared to be a typical tomboy; she carried a backpack for a basketball team, her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore a baseball jersey and jeans. She walked with a swagger, her arms hanging down in a confident air and she had freckles across the bridge of her nose.

"Well, I was just wondering cause you looked lost in space," she said. "My name's Sandra."

"Andrew," he said. "Would you happen to know where the history department is? I'm supposed to be their substitute teacher today?"

"Sure, I'm on my way there anyway, I have American History first," she said as she fell into step beside him.

"Thank you," he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked around the hallway. It was getting emptier and when she saw Josh and David at the other end of it, she sighed deeply. "I guess Josh's back," she offered.

"You know him?"

"Yeah, I know David too. We sometimes play baseball together after school. I haven't seen Josh these last few days, though. My mom said that his uncle died last week and he's been kind of dealing with that," Sandra said as she coughed. She pulled what appeared to be a cough drop from her pocket and unwrapped it. Once she popped it in her mouth, she looked at him. "You know, every time someone dies around here, the entire town goes into a complete uproar? It happened when my grandma died almost seven years ago. I mean, let's face it, no one really knows what happens, but I don't think it's as bad as they believe. At least I hope not."

"What do you think does happen?" he asked becoming intrigued by her words.

"Well, we go to church and stuff, so I guess people go to Heaven and get to meet God, and see relatives that died before them. What can be bad about that?" She shrugged her shoulders again and looked at him.

"Nothing," Andrew replied.

"What really bums me out about it is just that I miss my grandma a lot and I wish sometimes that I could see her again. You know, sometimes when I'm walking by a bakery on my way home, I can smell the bread they bake, and it reminds me of her. She used to bake tons of that stuff. At Thanksgiving our house would be full of family members and food. I miss that a lot, but my pastor said that we could still have those gatherings, but to me, it wouldn't be the same."

Andrew smiled. "You may not believe it, but you will see her again, and when that time comes, there will be a great celebration."

Sandra smiled and nodded. "Yeah, but that won't be a long, long time. I'm not really ready for what you're implying yet, I'm only 13, and even my mom says I would have time to date boys. You know, I think she wants me to marry and have lots of kids when I'm older. Right now, I can't think of anything more disgusting than kissing a boy!"

Andrew laughed. "One day you might think otherwise."

"Oh I hope you're kidding," she said and looked at him with utter disgust on her face. "If you saw some of the things those boys eat, then you wouldn't be saying that at all."

Andrew smiled, but opted not to say anything else.

"Anyway, this is the history area." she said as they reached a large open area. "I know it's not much, but hey at least if one class is boring, than we can listen in on what goes on in other ones." She laughed.

"Thanks for your help, Sandra," he said.

"No problem, you know, for a sub, you're pretty cool," she said smirking as she raced off. He watched her take a seat in one of the other classrooms right as the final bell sounded.

~*~*~*~*~

Once he met the team leader, Andrew was set up in a classroom, and he was given the chance to teach sixth grade history. Not very exciting and half the kids seemed to be bored with his lecture and like Sandra had said, they had spent more time watching the kids from the other classrooms than paying any attention to what was happening in his area.

During the sixth period class, David Norman walked slowly across the large open room and took a seat in his classroom. He looked up only slightly to see that his usual teacher was not even there, and instead there stood a man who appeared to be in his early to mid 30's. At least Mrs. Daly wasn't there, he thought grimly as the other kids filtered into the classroom, and the bell rang.

The angel began to speak. "My name is Andrew, and I'll be your substitute teacher while Mrs. Daly is out."

Some of the kids began to snicker, others looked as though they were going to fall asleep. Andrew sighed deeply as he watched the reactions of the kids. He had seen this sort of thing the entire day, but this class was by far the worst, because the kids were anxious for the school day to be over so they could go home.

The hour dragged on, and when it was finally time for them to leave, the kids practically ran out of the room. He could see that David had remained in his seat. The boy appeared to be immersed in something and had his head down.

"The final bell just rang, you're free to go," Andrew offered as David looked up.

"I know," the boy muttered.

"What's your name?" Andrew asked, but although he already knew that this was Harry's grandson, he wasn't going to say anything that would frighten the boy.

"David," came the quiet answer.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

"Sure, wonderful," David answered sarcastically.

"Do you want to talk about anything? You don't sound like you're as wonderful as you said. If you want to talk about it, I'll listen. Some people say I'm a good listener," Andrew offered.

David looked into the compassionate eyes of the man who was now looking down at him. "No, I'm OK."

Before Andrew could say anything, Sandra rushed into the area, her eyes bright. "Are you ready to play ball, David?" she asked.

"No, I don't want to," David replied sourly.

"Oh come on," Sandra said but looked at him, her voice dropping an octave when she saw how miserable he looked. "What's wrong?"

David looked down at his desk. "I don't want to play ball today, I didn't even want to come to school today but my dad made me. I just want to be left alone."

"Why, are you sick?"

"No, you stupid girl," David snapped.

"Hey wait a minute," Sandra said just as angrily before Andrew could even defend her. "Just because you're in a bad mood, doesn't mean that you have the right to insult me. Now, out with it, what's got you in such a tizzy anyway?"

David looked into the hazel eyes of the girl and when he saw her gaze was not even faltering, he spoke. "My grandpa died last night."

"I'm sorry," she said, her anger diminishing.

"He was the only person in the world who could possibly understand me and now he's gone," David looked at her. "I don't want to play ball, I don't want to do anything. I just want to understand why this has to happen."

"Did you ask your dad about it?" Sandra asked.

"No, because it's always the same, all he did was tell me that we'd discuss it later," David said bitterly. "You know that later never comes." The boy got up and left the room leaving Andrew and Sandra standing there. Both could see the pain in David's face, and finally Sandra looked at him and sighed deeply. It was obvious that she was worried about her friend.

"I really didn't know," she said softly.

"I know, no one did," Andrew said gently.

"I mean I got mad when he called me 'stupid' but how can I be considered smart if he won't talk to me?" She asked; her voice etched in pain. "I'm not a psychic, you know."

"No, you're not," Andrew smiled gently at her. "You're a good friend, but he says a lot of things that hurt because right now, he's hurting."

"I can't help but wonder why he even came to school today?" Sandra said softly. "I mean, after my grandma died, I was home from school for almost a week, before I could go back."

"I don't think it was his choice to make," Andrew said gently. "You heard how angry he was when he mentioned his dad."

"Yeah," Sandra nodded. "I don't understand why an adult would not allow their kid the chance to grieve. I did when my grandma died and it helped a little to be sad about having to say good-bye."

Andrew nodded "Everyone needs that, and David appears to be denied the chance." He reached down and picked a small notebook up off the table. In his haste to leave, David had left it on his desk.

"What are you going to do?" she asked noticing his movements.

"I think David will need this so I'm going to take it to him," Andrew said and smiled weakly. "Maybe I can get him to talk to me."

"You got his address?" she asked.

"No," Andrew said.

"Then, I'll give it to you, maybe you have a better chance of getting through to him than I do," Sandra said as she wrote the information down and gave it to him.

"Why do you do this, you don't even know me?" he asked.

"I don't know, I guess 'cause, you've got good vibes," she said simply. "Truthfully, I don't think you'd hurt a fly. I mean, it's weird that you'd show up just like that and so soon after David's grandfather died, and quite honestly, I think something's up with that."

"Why is that? I'm just here to take the place of a teacher who is sick," he said.

"Maybe so, but you know what? My mom always says that I should trust my internal voice, and right now, as we've been talking, it's screaming!"

Andrew smiled. "What do you think that voice is?"

"Sometimes I think it's my guardian angel," she laughed. "I know that sounds weird, but I think sometimes that my grandma is giving me messages. Whatever the case, I try to listen." She looked down at her watch. "Oh well, I guess I should get going. If there's no game, I will have to go to the library and get started on my science project." She grabbed her backpack and rested it up on her shoulder. "See you around, Andrew."

"Bye, Sandra," he called out as she ran through the doorway and outside.

Once she had disappeared, he was left standing alone in the classroom, the slip of paper she had given him still in his hand.

~*~*~*~*~

Andrew walked towards the house where David and George lived. He could see a bicycle on the front lawn and figured that the boy was back home. It had been about an hour since he had seen David and talked with Sandra at the school.

Approaching the door, he knocked. Moments later, the door swung open and David was standing in the doorway looking up at him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Andrew said nothing, he simply handed the confused boy the notebook. "Oh yeah, that, thanks."

"I was sorry to hear about your grandfather, David," Andrew said softly.

"Thanks," the boy mumbled and Andrew could see that there were tears in his eyes.

"Listen, would you like to go for a walk?" Andrew asked. "I'm new in town and would like to find a park to relax. I heard that you know all there is to know about this town and maybe you can help me."

David looked up and shrugged his shoulders. "OK," he finally said. "Wait here, I'll go get my jacket."

Andrew waited for a few moments as the boy disappeared inside, and when he finally came back, he locked the door and stuffed the key in the pocket of his jacket. As soon as they stepped out in the sidewalk, David looked up at the angel. "Can I ask you a question?"

Andrew nodded. "You can ask me whatever you want."

"How did you know where I live?" David asked.

"Your friend, Sandra told me. She's been worried about you," Andrew said.

"I figured that she'd be mad at me for calling her 'stupid'," David said.

"I think she understands, but she wished that you would talk to her about it. She had no idea what had happened, and she feels badly for you," Andrew said gently.

"Is that why she told you where I live?" he asked.

"Mm-hum, that's why," he said as they continued to walk.

The sun was shining brightly in the late afternoon sky and the cool spring breeze somehow could awaken the senses of the young boy. It left him in deep contemplation and Andrew, respecting this, remained silent. He figured that in David's own time, that he would eventually start talking. As they reached the gate that led into the central park of the small town, David jerked the gate open and walked through it.

The paths were muddy from the rain that had come the day before, leaving them to walk on the grass that lined the path. There were trees everywhere, and in the air one could breathe the smell of honeysuckle, and marigolds, which gave the place a pleasing and peaceful feeling. Andrew sighed with contentment as they reached a small pond and they sat down on the bench.

"Have you ever thought about what happens after we die?" David asked finally breaking his silence.

"I think everyone does at one time or another," Andrew said honestly.

"I guess, but now I suppose you think I'm stupid for even asking," the boy began.

"No, I don't," Andrew said and looked out across the path to the ducks that were swimming on the pond. After offering the boy a reassuring smile, the angel spoke, his voice gentle as he addressed the sad, young boy. "These questions would naturally come to you right now, so soon after your grandfather died. It's always hard to go through this and not understand any of it, isn't it?"

"I wanted to ask my dad, but he won't tell me anything, and whenever I try to press the issue with him, he gets mad," David said softly. "He says he'll talk to me about it later, but that never comes. By then he's just off doing other things and doesn't have time to even look at me."

"How can you be so sure that he won't talk to you about it this time?" Andrew asked.

"Because, it happened after my grandma died too," David said. "I could hear him crying in his bedroom one evening, and when I asked him about it, he said that I shouldn't have sneaked up on him and that he would talk to me about it later. When I tried to get him to talk to me, he got mad."

"David, what do you think of when you think about death?" Andrew asked gently.

"I don't know, I guess it scares me," he looked down at the ground.

"Why?"

"'Cause I don't know anything about it. I don't know if it's nice, or if it's like in a horror movie, or if there really is a heaven or angels." He looked at Andrew. "I want to believe that it's nice, so my grandpa won't hurt anymore, but because my dad won't talk to me about it, I'm just confused. I wish I could understand these feelings."

"Why don't you ask me what you want to know, David?" Andrew asked gently. "Maybe I can put your worries to rest."

"Do you know about this kind of thing?" he asked weakly.

"Yes, I do," Andrew said gently.

David looked at the angel and shrugged his shoulders. He had so many questions, but he didn't really know where to start, so he remained silent.

"Have you even had a chance to cry about your grandfather, David?" Andrew asked as he reached over and laid his hand on the boy's shoulder.

The boy shook his head. "Last night when I heard the phone ring, I went to my dad and asked him what was up. He told me and then sent me back to bed. I wanted to cry, and have him hug me and tell me that my grandpa is in a good place. He won't, and now I'm scared."

"Do you believe in God?" Andrew asked.

"I don't know, I guess so," the boy answered. "We never go to church, I've never even prayed before. Do you think it's OK to pray even though one doesn't go to church?"

"Of course it is," Andrew said softly. "God will always listen to you when you talk to Him, He loves you."

David looked over at the pond and could see the ducks still swimming. He could see a gazebo off to one side, and it was clear that he was contemplating the words he had been told. After a few more moments of silence passed between then, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Andrew, how do I start?"

"To pray?"

"Uh-huh," came the boy's shy answer.

"Tell Him that you're here, and that you want to talk to Him," Andrew said softly.

David closed his eyes and he could feel the tears that were still streaming out from beneath the lids. His voice was shaking with nervousness as he began to speak. "God, my name is David Norman, and I've never talked to you before because I was always afraid to. I want to try now because I'm scared and I hope you understand me. I'm here with one of my teachers from school and he's helping me with this." The boy took a staggering breath before he continued to speak. "My grandpa died last night and I don't know what to do. I don't understand what happens when someone dies and I wish my dad would talk to me about it. He acts like nothing happened and made me go to school today even though my friends all stay home after there's been a death in their family." He sniffed as his voice got softer and he continued to speak. "I miss my grandpa and I want to cry, but I can't, because I don't want to anger my father. I'm always afraid that everyone I love will die and I'll be left all alone. I don't want to be here alone, I'm just a kid…" His words trailed off and he began to cry in earnest.

"David," Andrew's comforting voice emerged and he put his arms around the boy. He could feel the boy's body racking with grief from under his touch. "You're never alone. God wouldn't leave you alone, and He wouldn't take every person you love away."

The boy raised his head and looked dejectedly at Andrew. "How do you know?"

Andrew closed his eyes, and then after a moment, he opened them. "Because I have faith, David."

The boy looked at Andrew, his eyes filled with sadness. "I wish I did."

"This is why I am here," Andrew said as he began to glow and the boy could see a whitish light surrounding his teacher. "David, I'm an angel."

The boy looked at him, his expression a mixture of wonder and fright.

"Don't be afraid, I was sent here to help you get through all of this. I know you need to talk to someone about this," he said sincerely, but when the boy backed away from him, the light faded somewhat and Andrew reached out and took David's hand and smiled compassionately at him. "I'd never do anything to hurt you, David, I'm only here to help you."

The boy nodded numbly, but after some seconds passed, he looked down at the ground, and was unable to meet the angel's sympathetic gaze.

Andrew took the boy's chin in his hand and made him look into his gentle green eyes. "God sent me to explain all these things to you, but there was someone else also wanted me to come see you as well, and none of us want you to be afraid anymore. Do you know who it was that asked me to come see you?"

"Who?" David asked weakly.

"Your grandfather," Andrew said gently. "He wanted you to know that he's happy now that he's been reunited with your grandmother. Both of them love you dearly and their only hope is that you and your father will be able to talk about death as easily as you talk about life. You see; it truly isn't as frightening as you might believe."

David looked at him as he tried to rub the tears out of his eyes. "You saw my grandpa?"

"Yes I did," Andrew smiled as he remembered Harry's impatience and abrupt mannerisms. "He called me a 'young fella' even though in reality I'm much, much older than he is."

"He did? But you don't look all that old?" David looked at him in disbelief.

"We don't age, well, at least, not the same as humans do," Andrew said gently. "In actuality, I can vividly recall assignments I've had from the 18th century. I remember the Revolutionary War as though it happened yesterday, but I can also remember Woodstock from 1969 and the music from that event. I know you like history, right? It's your favorite subject in school."

"Yeah, except I don't like Mrs. Daly very much, she's kind of mean; she never answers my questions, and acts like she hates kids," David said.

"Well, how would it be if I tell you a few relevant things about history, and in exchange, you can tell me about how you feel about facing your grandfather's death?" Andrew suggested. "You can ask me anything you want about it and I'll answer you. You see, I'm an angel, and angels don't lie." He smiled at the boy.

"OK," David said softly. "But, what about my dad?"

"Well, your grandfather made me promise to come back here and explain everything to you and your dad, so I will be talking to George too, but that will not happen today."

"My dad probably won't listen to you, he doesn't believe in God or angels," David said.

"I know, your grandfather told me. If I recall correctly he called your dad 'Mr. Logic'," Andrew said and David smiled. "Before we worry about your father, you must learn something about Heaven and about death, that way you can share this with your friends, and you won't ever have to be afraid. I'm here to help you with that."

"How?" David asked.

"Tomorrow morning just before sunrise, I'll come by your house and pick you up," Andrew said.

David nodded, but after a few seconds, he looked at Andrew, "Did you really, truly see my grandpa?"

Andrew smiled gently and nodded. "Yes, I was with him when he died."

"You were?" David asked weakly.

"Yes, and David, he was not afraid, in fact, he was rather impatient to 'get the show on the road'," he said smiling at the memory. "He missed your grandma terribly, and he was ready to go home, see her again, and meet God. He hated the nursing home where he felt forced to live." He paused then continued speaking. "Harry's only concern was that you wouldn't be able to understand why everything happened as it did. He knew that you would bury everything deep inside, so he asked me to come and see you after he went home and this was a promise I made not only to him, but also to God."

"I miss him, Andrew," the boy said.

"I know, " Andrew said gently. "It will take time for you to accept everything that has happened, but you will."

"I wanted to tell my dad all of this, but he wouldn't listen to me. My friend Josh lost his uncle last week and he was able to stay home from school until today when he came back. We talked about it on the school bus, and I thought it must be horrible because my dad won't talk to me about it."

"It's not horrible, David," Andrew said gently. "Do you remember the light you saw just now?"

"Yeah, what was that?"

"That is the light of God's love, and when someone dies, then it is my job to take that person to God. That's what an Angel of Death does," Andrew explained. "I comfort and guide people home to Heaven, and I suppose this is where people get the idea of the light at the end of the tunnel, because essentially that is what happens, and that light is God's love welcoming them home."

"So it's not as horrible as people say?" he asked.

"No, it's actually quite beautiful. I smiled when I could see your grandfather running to God. Have you ever seen your grandfather run?"

"Not really, he had always hobbled around with a cane," David replied smiling slightly.

"When I took him home, I saw this new life building up in him, and he was running as though he was 20 years old," Andrew said. "He's happy, living in the most wonderful place imaginable, and without pain. Death isn't the end, and it isn't dark and somber, but rather a rebirth and is nothing that someone should be afraid of."

"Is it OK for me to be sad?" David asked.

"Of course it is," Andrew said and squeezed the shoulder of the boy. "No one should rob you of the time you need to say good-bye. You should have the right to grieve for your own loss, and that is the absence of your grandfather in your life."

"What about my dad?" David asked.

"I don't know how he would react to this," Andrew said gently. "But, regardless of what happens, you mustn't ever allow your father to suppress your grief. The best way is to allow yourself to overcome it, feel the extent of it, and then you will be able to move on with your life. One day you will remember your grandfather and then smile as you remember those times when he left the greatest impact on you. Right now, it's too hard for you to do that, because everything is so fresh in your mind. You have to realize something, David, your father cannot disallow you from crying or feeling sadness in facing this, he can only do that with himself."

Upon hearing the words from the compassionate Angel of Death, David could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and he tried to wipe them away. Seeing his actions, Andrew continued to speak. "David, the first step you must take is to allow yourself to cry. There exists absolutely no reason for you to hide your feelings. I know you're very sad and you have a right to express the sorrow that is in your heart."

David nodded numbly, but after a few deep breaths, he could suddenly feel the angel's arms wrapping around him. He looked up and could see Andrew's compassionate eyes looking down at him. Without thinking oddly of his actions, David allowed the tears to fall from his eyes, and eventually he began to cry.

Andrew remained with him until it was time for David to go home and the sun had descended behind the trees. As they were getting off the bench and were leaving the park, Andrew smiled. "Do you feel any better?"

David nodded, "I'm a little tired."

"Sometimes releasing pent up emotions can be very difficult, it takes the energy out of a person and makes them feel completely drained," Andrew said sympathetically, but he knew internally that David would need a few more bouts of emotional release in order to overcome not only the pain of his grandfather's death, but also that of his grandmother. Furthermore, Andrew was aware of the fact that his task was far from over, and that David desperately needed the adequate chance to cope with the emotions that encompassed him, before his physical body would became sick because of all the years of holding back his feelings.

When they reached the front door, David turned to face Andrew, "Thanks for talking to me today."

"I was glad to help," he said. "David, could you do something for me?"

"What?"

"Don't tell your father who I really am, it might make things harder," Andrew said.

"Where would I start?" David said his words edging in sarcasm. "If I said anything about that, then he'd think I was ready for the Psychiatric ward."

Andrew smiled sadly. "Keep the faith, David, we will get through to him."

David nodded, but on his face was disbelief. "You'll pick me up tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, I'll ring the bell at 6, and we'll go back to the park," Andrew said.

"OK," David said softly. "Thank you, Andrew, for everything."

"You're very welcome, David," the angel said as the boy pulled the key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and went inside.

~*~*~*~*~

At this time, Josh had come inside his house. "Mom, I'm home," he called out.

"How was school?" Bethany asked as she came out into the living room and greeted her son. "Did everything go OK?"

"Yeah, sure, it was fine," Josh said but looked up at his mother. "Did you hear, David's grandfather died last night."

"No, I didn't. I heard that he had been sick, so I guess it doesn't really surprise me. You know Harry was 87, right?"

"Yeah," Josh said. "Anyway, David was actually in school today."

Bethany nodded sadly. "That poor kid."

"Mom, can I ask you a question?" Josh asked.

"Sure you can?" she replied. "Why don't we go into the kitchen and you can get something cold to drink before we have dinner. Then you can ask me anything you want. Did I tell you that we got a new nurse for your little sister?"

Josh shook his head. His little sister had Downe's Syndrome and she was in need of special care whenever Bethany would go to work.

"Yes, Tess started today. She's still upstairs, so you can meet her before she goes home. But, that can come later, you were going to ask me something."

They went into the kitchen and both of them sat down at the table. "Mom, ever since Uncle Steve died, I've been asking myself why?"

"I know," Bethany said, "but you know that Steve had a wild lifestyle, and he didn't really take good care of himself."

"Yeah, I know, but do you have any idea what happened to him after he died?"

"I want to believe that he's in heaven, Josh. He's with God and your grandparents. Remember what Pastor Cunningham said at the funeral yesterday?"

"Yeah, he said that Uncle Steve was with the angels in heaven, and that this was not an end to his life, but a beginning," Josh said.

"Well, that's about the most beautiful sentiment I've heard in a long time," a strange voice filtered into the room and he looked up. The heavyset woman stood there smiling and she nodded at him. "You must be Josh, my name's Tess, and I'm here to take care of your little sister."

Josh nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Mrs. Farris, Drew is asleep, and I'm going to head for home, unless there's anything else I can do for you," Tess offered.

"Call me Bethany, in this small town, most of us speak informally with one another," she said. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Our usual nurse didn't even give notice that she had quit, so I'm very grateful to you."

"Oh baby, it was my pleasure," Tess said. "Drew is an extraordinary child."

Josh stood up from the table and went over to the refrigerator. He had heard everyone say that during the past days, and though he wasn't jealous of his little sister, he certainly felt shoved aside whenever her name happened to be mentioned. He smiled weakly at Tess as he pulled out a canned drink and returned to the table. Once he opened it, he took a long drink of the strawberry flavored juice.

Bethany noticed that her son was suddenly quiet and instead of speaking further, she simply nodded.

"So Josh, how old are you now?" Tess asked.

"12," he said as he put the can back on the table.

"So that means you're in the seventh grade?"

"Sixth," he said. "I was held back because my birthday's in October."

"I see, and what's your favorite subject?" Tess asked sensing that the boy was saddened that all the attention appeared to now be focused on his little sister and she tried to refocus it on him.

"I like English," he said. "I want to be writer when I grow up."

"Josh's got a whole book of his original poetry upstairs in his room," Bethany said.

"Oh Mom, if you tell people that, then they're gonna think I'm a sissy," Josh whined.

"I won't tell, your secret's safe with me," Tess said with a smile.

"Promise?"

"I promise," Tess said and turned to go. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bethany, Josh, it was nice meeting you, and keep up with that writing. It's a gift you know."

Josh smiled once Tess was gone. "Mom, I'm worried about David."

"I know; he was very dependent on his grandfather, wasn't he?" Bethany said softly. "I wish somehow I could get through to George, but there just doesn't seem any way to do that."

"Why is Dr. Norman so mean to his son about that?" Josh asked.

"Well, I think it has to do with the fact that his wife died when David was born. Helen Norman was my best friend, and she had been so excited about having a child. She died during childbirth because there were complications. That's why David has grown up without his mother. Anyway, it was hard for everybody back then, just because she was such a giving and loving person. George was so in love with her and after she died, he blamed God for stealing away the mother of his child and the woman he loved. I remember at the funeral, George had a nervous breakdown and stormed out of the church. It was horrible."

"Then what happened?" Josh asked.

"I guess before all this happened, George had this vision that everything was going to be perfect when David would arrive. Instead, he had a healthy son, and his wife was gone." Bethany shook her head sadly. "I don't even know if David knows about this, and I'm thinking that it might actually be easier for him if he did. But, Josh, you have to swear to me that you won't breath a word of this to David. If anyone should tell him, it should be his father."

"I won't, Mom," he promised. "But, I still have a question."

"What's that?"

"Why is death such a hard topic for people? I mean if they say in church that it's a beginning to a new life with God, then why?" Josh asked.

"I don't know, I guess it has to do with faith. I mean we believe this, but there's no proof, and until that proof shows itself, we're going to continue questioning. Besides that, I guess grief is a part of it. I'm sad about Steve, as sad as you are, after all, he was my older brother. I know you and he were very close, and I know that you grew into a wonderful young man because of the guidance he had in your life. Not having a father around is hard, I know, but I also realize that you were deeply enriched by Steve's presence in your life, and to feel sad is a part of it." She could feel the tears brimming underneath her own eyes.

"I guess it's like David and his grandpa," Josh said as he felt the tears streaming down his cheeks. "But, why doesn't Dr. Norman give him the chance to grieve, like you've allowing me to do?"

"I don't know, we can only put these questions in God's hands and hope that David will eventually be allowed to come to grips with his feelings," Bethany said softly. "I can't really give you a good answer, Josh. If I could fully understand George Norman, than maybe this wouldn't be so hard for me to comprehend."

"I hate what he's doing to David," Josh said sadly. "I ran into Sandra Livingston today, and she said that David just about snapped her head off after she asked him about going and playing ball this afternoon. Then she said that after David told her what had happened, that it really surprised her to even see him at school. She said that Andrew was going to see him and that maybe try to get him to talk."

"Who's Andrew?"

"He's a substitute teacher for David's history class," Josh said. "I hear he's a pretty cool guy and Sandra said she thought he was pretty with it, so maybe he can succeed where we failed."

"That boy should not have been in school today," Bethany said shaking her head.

"I know," Josh said softly, and he began to contemplate everything that had been happening. After a few moments, he looked up and spoke. "Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"How long is it going to hurt?"

"Steve's death?"

"Yeah," he said softly.

"I don't know," she said gently, "but no matter how hard it is, if you ever need to talk about it, we can."

"Thanks," Josh said and smiled weakly.

~*~*~*~*~

George Norman walked into the house that evening, he had been at the funeral home making arrangements for the funeral that would take place in three days. He sighed deeply as he saw his son coming down the stairs. "Hi Dad."

"Hi, Dave," George replied cheerfully. "How was school?"

"OK," he said and sat down on the sofa. "Dad, can we talk?"

"Not right now, I have to take care of some cases for tomorrow. I have to admit a few patients to the hospital, and then there's that aggravating case with Mrs. Seymour," George said.

"Dad, when's Grandpa's funeral going to be?" David asked weakly. "I want to go."

"You'll be in school, you can't go," George said.

"Dad, he was my grandfather, I want to go, please, it's important to me," David said softly.

George looked at his son, his steel gray eyes baring down into his son's. David knew this look; it was hard and cold, exactly as he always thought his father to be. Sighing sadly, he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and could do nothing except back down. With his shoulders slumped, he walked back up the stairs and went to his room. When he got there, he closed the door, and went to lay down on his bed.

"God, what do I do?" he cried softly into his pillow, and ten minutes later, when he heard his father tapping on the door, he went down to dinner.

With very little appetite, he sat down at the table, his elbows resting against it. He was mad at his father, the anger building as he suppressed the grief he felt in his grandfather's death. He looked at his father; George was sitting at the table, reading a magazine, which appeared to be some sort of medical journal.

David finished his dinner before he could say anything else to his father. "Dad, one of my teachers is coming by tomorrow morning at six, I'll be leaving early to go to school."

"Fine, fine," George said waving him away.

Without another word, David walked slowly out of the dining room and climbed up the stairs to his room. He was still tired from the long emotional outburst he had at the park, and somehow after he had gotten dressed for bed, and brushed his teeth, he was glad that he would be able to talk to Andrew again the following morning. It seemed as though an Angel of Death had more understanding for what he was feeling than his own father. He set the alarm and turned off the light, the moonlight filtering in his room casting shadows around him. This time, he did not notice it. Instead, he rolled over and fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

The alarm went off the following morning, signifying that it was 5:30. He quickly showered and dressed wondering why it was that Andrew had to show him what he wanted to show him at the crack of dawn. He hated mornings, but his anticipation as to what would happen this morning overrode everything. However, now his head had started hurting and he wondered only briefly if he was coming down with a cold.

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed his backpack for school and went down the stairs. His father was not yet up and he was grateful for that. He wasn't in the mood to get into another discussion with him, but something did catch his eye and he found a slip of paper next to the telephone. On it, in his father's script, was the name of the funeral home where his grandfather was and after he wrote it down on a piece of notebook paper, the doorbell rang and he went to open it.

Outside, Andrew was waiting and he smiled when David stepped out onto the porch. "Hi," the boy said softly.

"How are you?" Andrew asked.

David shrugged his shoulders.

"Come on," Andrew urged, "we can talk at the park."

David nodded and after he locked the door, they walked down the front walk. As soon as they were a distance from the house, David broke his silence. "I tried to talk to my dad again last night."

"What happened?"

"The usual. I asked him if I could go to the funeral, and he said 'no', and he said that I would be in school," the boy's voice was filled with sadness. "How can I let go if he won't even let me go to the funeral? It was the same with my grandma. I guess he thinks I'm too young to handle going."

Andrew nodded and rested his hand on David's shoulder. "I think we need to have a talk with your principal at school."

"What good will that do?"

"He can dismiss you from school, and I will go with you," Andrew said gently.

"My dad would kill me if I went against his will," David objected.

Andrew shook his head, "you have just as much of a right to grieve your grandfather as he does, David, and what he is doing to you is just not right."

Sighing sadly, David followed Andrew through the gates and into the park. The sky was just becoming light out, and as they sat down, David could see the bluish hues of the heavens as the sun was just beginning to peek out.

"Look at that, David," Andrew said softly as they watched the sun rising out from behind the trees and the first rays of sunshine could be seen and felt against their faces. Once it was completely light outside, he looked at David. "What do you think?"

"It was pretty, but I don't understand why you wanted to show me this," David said and the confusion was evident in his eyes.

"This is the closest thing to Heaven that I could think of to show you," Andrew said gently. "How did you feel when you saw the sun?"

"I don't know, I guess I couldn't really think about it, because I have too much other stuff on my mind," the boy looked ashamed that he could not see the significance in what Andrew was trying to show him.

Andrew nodded sadly. Maybe there's another way, he thought to himself. But before he could say anything someone had called both of their names and he looked up.

Sandra was walking through the park and she smiled when she saw them. "Hey, I didn't know you guys were into sunrises." When she saw David's face, she stopped abruptly. "What's going on?"

David shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his lap.

"Hi Sandra," Andrew offered. "David and I have been talking and we came out here to catch a glimpse of Heaven."

"Yeah, well at least I'm not the only one who does things like that," she said. "David, are you OK? I mean excuse me for saying so, but you look awful."

Andrew looked into the face of the boy, and it was then that he noticed it; David did look pale, his eyes were glazed over, and it appeared as though he was, at any moment, about to pass out. "David, are you OK?"

Sandra looked frightened when no answer emerged from David. Moments later, she looked at Andrew. "What's wrong with him?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I think his emotional traumas are starting to affect his physical state," Andrew stood up and carefully picked David up in his arms. "You take his stuff, and we'll get him to a doctor."

Sandra nodded and swung David's backpack over her shoulder.

~*~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later, Andrew and Sandra entered a small doctor's office. Once they had explained who they were and who David was, the medical assistant had them help David to the examination room. When they got there, David's eyes opened.

"Where am I?" he asked weakly.

"You nearly passed out in the park, David," Andrew said gently.

Sandra was looking at her friend. "You feeling any better?"

"I'm tired," he whispered. "I feel like I got hit by a truck."

At this moment, the doctor came in. "Well, I know you, you're George's boy, David. How are you?"

"OK."

"My name's Bill Jeffries," he introduced himself. He looked at Andrew and Sandra. "I don't believe we've met."

"I'm Andrew, and this is Sandra, we're friends of David."

The doctor nodded and he began his examination. As he ran all the usual checks on David, he would mutter things like 'uh-huh' and 'yep' and when he finished he looked at them. "You have anything traumatic happen in the last week or so?"

David sighed deeply but said nothing.

"His grandfather passed away the other night," Andrew said.

"Harry? You're kidding?"

"Does he look like he's kidding?" Sandra asked indicating the earnest look on Andrew's face. Finally, she sighed deeply as she looked at the doctor. "I'm sorry if that came across sounding rude. It wasn't my intent to sound like that, I've just been worried about David these past few days."

"No, of course it didn't, Sandra. I just can't believe that Harry's gone. I mean I saw George yesterday and he didn't tell me anything about it," Bill said. "I thought Harry was fine and dandy. I had seen him last weekend when I was out at the home, but nothing prepared me to hear this."

"What about David, Dr. Jeffries?" Sandra asked. "He's not looking at all well."

"No, you're right, he's not," he looked down at David. "Have you been eating?"

"Not really," David said softly.

"Have you been able to talk about what has happened?" the doctor asked.

"Just with Andrew," came the weak reply and David began to cough. "But why am I sick?"

The doctor sighed deeply. "I don't know why, but from what you have told me, I can only guess that your body is only reacting to suppressed emotions. Do you know what happens when you throw a rotten apple in with all the healthy ones?"

"Yeah, the rotten one rots all of the healthy ones," Sandra said.

"That's right, and David, you have all those rotten feelings that are in your body, and the easiest way to explain it is when you feel lousy emotionally, then it breaks down your physical ability to fight infection. Right now, as far as I can see from this quick examination, you've got all the signs of a bronchial infection. Now, I'd guess that you may have gotten it through school, as that appears to be the breeding ground for these kinds of ailments. Usually they only show themselves as colds, and the kids are kept out for one or two days in order to recover from them."

Andrew looked at David and could see that the boy was frightened. "Dr. Jeffries, what about David's case? He's afraid and needs to know how he will get over this infection."

"I think I'm going to have to admit him to the hospital and run some tests to make sure he will be OK," the doctor said. "I'll call George and inform him on what has happened. I don't see this as being too extensive one day, maybe two."

Sandra looked at Andrew once the doctor had left the room. "Is it really possible for someone to get so sick from not being able to grieve?"

Andrew nodded. "I'm afraid it's just like he said, Sandra. If a person holds so much in, it breaks down their immune system, and makes them more likely to get sick."

Upon hearing what the doctor had said, it was apparent to both of them that David was frightened, "Andrew, I'm scared," he said softly.

"I know, David," he said gently. "I'm here, you're never alone."

Sandra watched for a few moments and looked at Andrew. As she watched him stand over David, she shook her head as those same strange feelings about Andrew encompassed her once again. She knew that eventually she would have to talk to him alone, because something about all of this did not make sense to her.

Finally after a few moments of silence, she looked down at her watch. "I guess I'd better go," she offered weakly. "I can't be late for school, I have a test first thing this morning."

Andrew looked up. "Thanks for your help," he offered.

"What about you? Aren't you coming?" she asked looking at Andrew. Internally, she hoped that he would come and then she could have tried to gun up the courage to talk to him about all these weird feelings she had about him.

"I'm not needed there today, Mrs. Daly returned, so I can stay with David," he said.

She sighed deeply, but before leaving she spoke. "OK, I'll see you later, David. I'll try to come by and see you after school."

When they were alone, David looked at Andrew. "You're not leaving?"

"No, I'll stay with you through everything," he promised.

David began to cough as the doctor returned. He carried a grave look in his eyes and he looked at Andrew. "George is on his way here," he said. "I don't know why, but he sounds very angry at the moment."

Andrew nodded, "I can only assume from your words that he is angry with me."

Bill shook his head. "I don't know why, but yes, I suppose he is. I'd hate to say it, but it might be best if you were to get out of here before George shows up."

"No, I won't leave," Andrew said adamantly as he looked down at the boy. "I made David a promise, and that promise I intend to keep. If George gets angry with me, then he gets angry. I cannot back out of my promise because of fear."

David smiled weakly as he felt Andrew brush his hair from his eyes.

"I admire your courage, because you don't know George when he gets mad," Bill said. "I'll have my receptionist forward all inquiries to me at the hospital. Right now, I think it's best that we get you over to the hospital and get started with those tests. Afterwards, I know you'll feel better."

David sighed deeply and he looked at Andrew as if to say 'nothing will make me feel better'. The angel could do nothing except squeeze the boy's hand reassuringly.

~*~*~*~*~

Josh arrived at school and came into the cafeteria that morning. He was wondering if he would see David at all because he had not seen his friend on the school bus earlier that morning. He was worried, but when he saw Sandra coming from across the room to meet him, he figured that he would soon find out what was happening. He waved at her as she came closer.

"Sandra, what's up?" Josh asked once she reached him.

"I just came from Dr. Jeffries office, Josh, and David nearly collapsed at the park this morning when I ran into him and Andrew there," she said weakly.

"How's David?"

"He's going into the hospital for tests, but the doctor said it was probably not anything really serious, although critical enough to be admitted into the hospital," she shrugged her shoulders and looked at him. "But I've got to tell you, there's really something really weird going on around here. I mean you know I'm worried about David, but these weird feelings I have about Andrew just won't go away."

"What about him?" Josh asked and neither of them noticed that an auburn headed woman was standing nearby and listening to them as they conversed.

"I don't know, I get this sort of otherworldly feeling about him. I mean, I know you've never met him, but there's something about him that just doesn't make sense."

"Such as?" Josh asked.

"Well, I've never seen an adult care so much for a kid in my life. He was holding David's hand at the doctor's office, and at one point, he told David that he's never alone. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I couldn't find the words. He's not like us, I mean there's something hidden and wise about him," she said.

"Oh come on, what could he be? An alien from outer space perhaps," Josh said half jokingly.

"No, I'm being serious, Josh. Listen, ever since my grandmother died, I hear voices in my mind. My mom calls it my intuition or something like that. Every time I'm around Andrew, I get this weird feeling that he's not what he seems. It's eerie, but kind of nice and comforting too. Even though I feel weird about him, I'm really glad that he's with David through all this. Lord knows David could use a little divine intervention right now."

"Are you implying that you think Andrew could be an angel?" Josh asked with disbelief written all over his face. "Why would God send an angel to this little hole in the wall town?"

"I'm not saying he is or isn't, but there is something, and I wish I could talk to him about this without him thinking I'm round the bend," Sandra said shaking her head.

"He won't," the woman who had been listening spoke.

"Since when do adults listen in on when we have something to say?" Sandra asked the woman, her voice was surprisingly not edgy, but she was shocked that an adult would actually eavesdrop on them.

"Andrew's a friend of mine, and he won't think you're crazy, Sandra," the woman said.

"How do you know who I am, we've never even met?" Sandra asked.

"No, we haven't, but my name is Monica," she said.

"But how do you know who I am?" Sandra asked and Josh nodded.

"Andrew told me that you showed him to the history rooms yesterday," she said with a smile.

Sandra nodded and looked at Monica. "Are you sure he won't think I'm totally bizarre for telling him this stuff? I mean, you know what happens when someone claims to hear voices in their head."

"Yeah," Josh piped up chortling. "Those oh so friendly dudes in the white lab coats come knocking at your door."

Monica smiled at them sincerely. "No, I don't think you're crazy and I don't think Andrew would think that of you, either."

"Can I ask you a question?" Josh asked.

"Sure you can," Monica replied.

"What are you doing here, I mean I've never seen you here before?" Josh said.

"I work for the school counselor," she said smiling.

"And you don't think we're crazy?" Sandra asked.

"Maybe she is," Josh said jokingly nudging Sandra.

"I'm not, I assure you," Monica said smiling. "I'm actually here to counsel children who are coping with death in their families."

Josh looked up, her words striking a nerve, "you are?"

"Mm-hum," she nodded.

"What do you do for them?" he asked.

"I help them talk about it and how they feel about it," she said. "You know, a lot of kids your age are dealing with this issue and although they may have good relations with their parents in this regard, it's always hard to show the extent of their vulnerability. That's why I'm here, to help them get over their shyness with the topic and talk about it."

Sandra looked at Josh, "maybe you should talk to her, Josh."

Josh nodded and looked at Monica, "Can I come talk to you, then? My uncle died last week, and it would be kind of nice to have someone to talk to besides my mom. I mean she's great and all, but I don't want to hurt her with what I've been feeling lately. I know that she was also really close to him, and I know everything's been hard for her."

Monica smiled, "Of course, just give me your name and I'll send for you."

Josh wrote his name on a piece of paper, and handed it to Monica. Once she was gone, he looked at Sandra. "OK, Miss Inner Voices, what's your take on her?"

"You can trust her," Sandra said softly. "As weird as it sounds, I don't think there's anything out of the ordinary about her, but something tells me you can trust her."

Josh nodded. "Should I tell her about David?"

"I don't see what harm it would do, and if you're as worried as I am, then it might make you feel better to talk about it," she said as the bell rang. "I have to get going, I have a history test this morning."

"Good luck," Josh called out to her. As soon as the girl was gone, he closed his eyes, his thoughts a jumble. Please God, he thought sadly, take good care of David, he's my best friend.

~*~*~*~*~

George stormed into Bill Jeffries office at that moment. "Where's my son?" he demanded.

"Dr. Jeffries is having him admitted to the hospital, Dr. Norman," the nurse seated in the office said. "None of them are here."

George looked at the nurse. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that your son is very sick and the friend that was with him knew that something was not right," the nurse said. "I'm guessing that's why he and the young girl brought David to us."

"Girl?"

"Yes, a school friend of his, I'm assuming," the nurse said.

George nodded. "What did Bill diagnose him with?"

"Extreme bronchial infection," the nurse said.

"How could David get this?" George asked. "He's been perfectly healthy."

"I don't know, but that's what Dr. Jeffries diagnosed and that's what his information states. However, I think you might want to take a look at this," the nurse handed the folder to George.

He opened it and looked down at the writing that was on the forms. As he read, the color drained from his face. "Nervous breakdown, emotional instability, and depression," were written on the form.

"My son is not depressed," George thundered.

"Listen, Dr. Norman, as with any patient, we call it like we see it," the nurse said. "If you had seen your son this morning, you would have given the same prognosis."

"Why would he be depressed?" George asked.

"I would guess it could be a number of things, stress in school, problems at home, death in the family, or worries. Children are just as capable of having stress as adults are."

George looked down at the folder and after some moments, he handed it back to the nurse. Her words began to resonate in his mind, 'death in the family', 'depression'. At that moment, he remembered his son asking him about going to the funeral. He shook his head in denial. No, it cannot be that, he thought stubbornly to himself and left the office.

~*~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later when George arrived at the hospital, he went immediately to see about his son. He walked into the waiting room and when he spotted Bill Jeffries standing in the large room talking to another man he didn't know, he walked over to them.

"Bill, I got your message, now tell me what's going on," he said. "Why did you see fit to send my son here?"

"He's sick, George," Bill stated flatly.

"Sick? He didn't look sick last night when I talked to him," George said.

"He is George, and if it weren't for Andrew, he would be sitting in school practically comatose," Bill said.

"So, you're this industrious friend of his?" George said evenly.

Andrew nodded without saying a word.

"Why don't you say something?" George asked.

"What should I say?" the angel asked, his voice sad. Instead of speaking his mind, he closed his eyes and once he was in control of his emotions, he excused himself and walked down the hall in the direction of the cafeteria. He would have liked to have started explaining to George what his son was going through, but the calming voice of the Father told him that it wasn't such a good idea, at least not in a hospital waiting room where already eight to ten other people were seated.

Please Father, he prayed as soon as he had left the two men, give me a great deal of your patience, I don't want to yell at George, I know it would do no good, and it would only make things harder for David. Please give me some of your guidance so that I handle this as you wish for me to.

He turned a corner, disappeared, and reappeared next to David. David, my friend, I'm here with you. You're not alone.

Andrew, is that you?

Yes.

I'm afraid. David's thoughts went to his friend.

I know you are. I'm here for you, and God is also with you, He will never leave you to cope with all of this alone. Andrew tried to comfort him with his words.

Am I going to die? The boy asked.

No, you're just weak right now from all the things you have endured these past days. I suppose since you've never been this sick before, that it's kind of scary for you. I know you're afraid, but you have no reason to be. Andrew said gently.

I ruined our morning together, David whispered.

No you didn't, but perhaps I can show you now what it is I wanted to show you with that sunrise. David, whatever happens, don't be afraid, I'm right here with you and I won't let anything happen that will hurt you. He took the boy's hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

Within seconds, they were both standing in the middle of a large meadow.

David glanced over towards Andrew and could see that he was now dressed in a beige colored suit and tie, the glow around him brighter than anything he had ever seen. He looked up at his friend. "Where are we?"

"We're between Heaven and Earth, David. This is a special place, and I brought you here so you could see that small part of heaven you missed this morning. That was the reason why I showed you the sunrise, I wanted to give you a small glimpse of what heaven is really like."

David looked around where he was standing and back over at his friend. "It's nice here." he sat down on the ground and was surprised when Andrew sat down beside him.

"What are you thinking about?" Andrew asked after a few moments of silence passed between them.

"My dad," David said. "I'm wondering why he never talks about my mom, and why he doesn't want me to go to my grandpa's funeral. It's almost like he's scared of letting me see him cry."

"Maybe he is," Andrew said.

"Do you ever cry?" David asked.

"Yes, I do."

"When?"

"I cry when someone kills him or herself, when I have to take children home, or when someone is hurting and I must stand there unable to interfere," Andrew said softly. "All those things make me very sad."

"Why do you do this job if it makes you so sad?" David asked.

"It's an honor for me to bring His children home," Andrew said. "When I took your grandfather home, he was so happy, and his happiness brought me joy. At the same time, he was worried about you and your dad. When I promised to come see you, he said 'now I'm ready to go' and he went without even looking back."

David looked down at his lap. "I wish I had talked to him about all of this."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I was scared that he would react the same way my dad did," David said softly. "I wanted to ask him if heaven existed, or if he believed in God, and he wouldn't talk to me about it. I wanted to understand, Andrew, I really did. I wanted to believe that my grandparents were happy, but my dad didn't tell me anything and I was left with the impression that it was horrible and dark, like they show on TV." He looked up at his friend, the tears once more escaping from under his eyes.

"Your father didn't talk to you at all about it, so how could you have known?" Andrew asked, his voice soft but filled with understanding.

"I don't know. I remember how you talked to me yesterday, and how you told me all that stuff about God and heaven, and afterwards, I felt kind of stupid," he said softly.

"Why did you, nothing that I told you was said with the intention of making you see yourself as stupid?" Andrew asked gently.

"I don't know, I guess because everyone at school seems to know about this kind of thing, and I don't know anything."

Andrew rested his hand on David's shoulder. "Let me tell you something. Most of your friends at school don't really know what happens when someone dies. They have faith that heaven exists, and they learn about it through a church's teachings or from their parents, but they don't really know. Most won't know until it happens to them and that's where the uncertainty of the topic comes up in many of the people I speak with," he paused for a moment and then continued. "I know you and your dad aren't members of a church, your grandfather told me that your father doesn't believe in God. But, believe me, David, most people don't understand death at all."

"They don't?"

"No, they have contorted ideas of what happens, and even more twisted ideas about me," Andrew said softly, his voice sad.

"But, why? I mean, you're nice, and caring towards people, how could they think that you're bad?"

Andrew smiled sadly. "Look at things like Halloween, and some of the costumes you have probably seen. One year I was sent to someone and this child knocked on the door, and when I opened it, I saw this boy dressed as a skeleton wearing a black cape and carrying what appeared to be a plastic scythe. He proceeded to tell me that he was 'death'."

David tried to hide his amusement by covering his mouth with his hand. "What did you do?"

"I told him we should have a little chat, and after we sat down on the porch, I asked him what he thought. He said that death was like a person, like this horrible image that he wanted to personify for Halloween. I was deeply saddened by this because I know that this idea was totally false, and for this reason, I really don't like Halloween at all. Anyway, this boy was a few years younger than you are now, and it seemed as though he had gotten this idea from some place, but where specifically, I don't know."</