Joe's Letter

Susan asked that the nurse stay with her while she said goodbye to her son. Shen ran her fingers through his thick blond curly hair. "Would you like a tuft of his hair?" asked the nurse.

By Gisela Carolina Aguiriano
Susan jumped up as soon as she saw the doctor come out of the operating room. She asked, "How is my little boy? Is he going to be okay? When can I see him?" The doctor looked at her. "I'm sorry," he said. "We did all we could." Stunned and silent, Susan thought, "Why do little children get cancer, doesn't God care? God, where were you when my son needed you?" The doctor interrupted. "One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes to let you spend time with your son’s body before it is transported to the university."

Susan asked that the nurse stay with her while she said goodbye to her son. She ran her fingers through his thick blond curly hair. "Would you like a tuft of his hair?" asked the nurse. Susan nodded. The nurse cut a lock of the child's hair and put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Susan. "It was Joe's idea to give his body to the university for study" said Susan. "He said it might help somebody else, and that is what he wanted. I said, no at first, but Joe said 'Mom I won't be using it after I die... maybe it will help some other little boy to be able to spend one more day with his mother'."

"My Joe had a heart of gold, always thinking of someone else and always wanting to help others if he could," said Susan as she walked out of the Children's Hospital for the last time now after spending most of the last eight months there. She placed the bag with Joe's things in it on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was hard and it was even harder to go into an empty house. Susan took the bag to Joe's room and started placing the model cars and things back in his room exactly where he always kept them. She laid down across his bed and cried holding his pillow. She woke up about midnight. Laying beside of her on the bed was a letter folded up. Susan opened the letter and began to read.

I know you’re going to miss me, but don't think that I will ever forget you or stop loving you because I'm not around to say I love you. I'll think of you every day mom and I'll love you even more each day. Some day we will see each other again. If you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, he can have my room and my old stuff to play with. If you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things as us boys do, so you will have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like. Don't be sad when you think about me, this is really a great place. Grandma and grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me the place, but it will take a long time to see everything here.

The angels are so friendly. I love to watch them fly. Jesus doesn't looks like any of the pictures I saw of him, but I knew it was him as soon as I saw him. Jesus took me to see God. And guess what mom? I got to sit on his knee and talk to him like I was somebody important. I told God that I wanted to write you a letter and tell you goodbye and everything, but I knew that wasn't allowed. God handed me some paper and his own personal pen so I could write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel that is going to drop this letter off to you.

God told me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked him... "Where was he when I needed him?" He said to tell you that he was there all along. Oh, by the way mom, nobody else can see what is written on this paper but you. To everyone else, it looks like a blank piece of paper. I have to give God his pen back now. He has some more names to write in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great. I almost forgot to let you know... Now I don't hurt anymore, the cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me suffer the pain either, so he sent The Angel of Mercy to get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery.” (4/28/10) (drawing courtesy Internet)

Note: The author is a 10th grade student at Brassavola Bilingual School in La Ceiba, Honduras. She wrote this piece for Mr. Cameron's English class.