“Am
I going to die?” the little girl asked me as I pushed her through the hallway
to the operation room. She’s only seven and she didn’t even burst into tears
when she said the word ‘die’.
“Do
you believe in God?” She asked me another question, her dark round twinkling
eyes looked at me with an excitement I couldn’t understand. As long as I know
her, this little mouth will never stop, so she asked me another, “Every dead
people are going to meet Him, right? I bet He has a very huge house, because
people from around the world will stay there with Him. Do you believe that
heaven is real?”
The
little girl pulled the sleeve of my shirt when I didn’t give her any answer.
“Huh, Doctor?” I looked down to her and she’s waiting for me. “Do you believe
it?”
“Yes,”
I smiled, “Of course, I bet it is the most wonderful place in the universe”.
She smiled back at me.
“Good,”
she nodded. “And I’m going there. It has to be a super cool place, doesn’t it?
With a giant slides and swings. And a giant teddy bear to hug every night. My
Sunday school teacher said that heaven is a pleasant place, no one ever cry
there. Everybody is happy. Do you think God has a pink bedroom painted for me
with a lot of storybooks inside? Because that makes me happy. I imagine that
there will be a lot of fluffy puffy cotton candy clouds on the sky, chocolate fountains pouring at the center of garden, and giant
trees full of candies too.” Her eyes glistened with such a radiant delight.
“Don’t
forget the main part,” I pinched her nose lightly and she giggled, “You’ll be
with Father Jesus a whole time”.
“Oh
yeah!” She became more excited than before. “Mom said that Jesus is the
greatest Father ever! Like a super hero. Like a best friend. I love my dad at
home, really love him. But Daddy says I have to love Jesus more, I don’t quite
understand, I never see Him before. But Daddy says Jesus died for me so I can
be with Him at heaven. I wonder what He is looked like. Will he accompany me
practicing piano in heaven? He has to be extra patient because I tend to miss a
lot of notes.”
There
was a little pause on the air before this ‘a-little-too-much-energy’ patient
spoke again. “But—“
“But?”
My gaze met hers. A little bit of worry pictured on her face.
“I
think I’m gonna miss Daddy, and Mommy, and Sarah. Oh, and Bowie too,” her lips
quivered. I remember the day when this kid bring her new puppy through the
hospital door with a grin on her face—passing through the securities who yelled
at her, ’Look! His name is Bowie!’ she told me.
“Bowie
will be proud of you,” I stroke her forehead once.
“Do
you think Sarah will be okay without me? She cries a lot at night whenever she
feels bad about her body. I can hear her sob from my bed. Do you think she
will be all right if I can’t hug her through the nights?”
I
looked at her for a moment, “You are doing this for her, right?”
“Will
she be better after the procedure?” she asked.
“I
hope,” I gave her a little nod.
“I
don’t want to see her cry ever again. I don’t want to see Mommy and Daddy hug
each other and cry ever again”.
“Are
you scared?” We’re in the operating room right now. I scrubbed in and faced her
angelic look before the nurse handed me the anesthetic mask.
She
shook her head. “No, because I am going to save Sarah. I am happy. I am going
to heaven, anyway. But, before we start, can I ask one more question?”
“Yes,
of course,” I held the mask a little longer.
“Is
it hurt?”
“No,”
I smiled, ”And donate your bone marrow to your older sister won’t make you die
either. Now can you count down from ten? Tell me your sweet dreams when you
wake up later”.
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