A Dying Child's Prayer

This very short story was the second one I ever wrote, and I had no intention to write any more. However, my friends encouraged me to continue writing and I wound up with 65 short stories that are published in my book: Life, Love and The Pursuit of Happiness.

The message here is neither pro-life nor pro-choice; instead, it is a message that we should always be grateful for the good people in our life--no matter how much we may argue and disagree with them and no matter how hard or short our life may be.

A Dying Child’s Prayer

A five-year-old girl dying of cancer says a prayer from her bed:

Dear God,

I’m sorry I can’t get on my knees to talk to you tonight. It hurts too much. I just want to thank you for giving me a mommy and daddy who love me and didn’t ‘bort me.

And thank you for giving me a big sister to teach me things so I don’t get in trouble. And thanks for my little brother. He can be a brat sometimes, but he doesn’t mean to be. I know he loves me ‘cause I saw a tear in his eye when mommy told him I had cancer. My puppy loves me too; I see it in his eyes, and I see it when he wags his tail. Please look out for them so they don’t get sick like me.

Thank you for giving me five-years of life, to be loved, and to feel the sun and wind in my face, and to play in the snow, and to make a snowman, and to see a rainbow and the moon and stars. And, I almost forgot, for letting me taste ice cream and other good stuff. But can you please make the spinach taste better so kids don’t make faces when they eat it?

And can you send some money to my daddy? He and mommy sometimes argue about not having enough money. I think it’s my fault for being sick and costing them lots of money. When I get to heaven, I’ll work hard to pay you back.

I’m sorry, God, that bad men killed your son for trying to help people. And I know it’s asking a lot, but can you please send him back ‘cause lots of people need help. Daddy talks about all the wars and fighting over religion, and somebody needs to tell them religion is supposed to be about loving one another.

Please, God. I’m not asking anything for myself ‘cause you’ve given me so much already. Just help others who really need it.

I’m getting tired and sleepy now, and I must rest. But when I get to heaven, can I hug you for all the blessings you and your son gave me? Amen.

That night the thankful little girl died in her sleep.

The End

Comments

A Friend For Life

I was about 6 years old visiting a mean uncle when he used a bullwhip on his hunting dog. If I had been older, I would have put the whip to him. My best friend growing up was my dog and I don't understand how anyone can be cruel to animals. That experience forms the basis for this short story. It also illustrates that no matter what you do for some people, they don't appreciate it. If you like it, follow me on Twitter and share this story with your friends. A Friend For Life The wiry old man in overalls cracked his bullwhip in the air. It sounded like a firecracker to the dog cowering under the car. He knew he would soon feel its sting. “Get out from under that car, you worthless hound, and take your whipping.” The dog never knew what he’d done to anger his master. He did everything he could to please him, but the beatings still came. He crawled to the right side of the undercarriage, hoping to avoid the worst of the whip. “You thin

The Rooster

I lived in a rural area during my boyhood and we had a backyard with chickens. This included a mean rooster who spurred anyone who came into "his" space. The bullying rooster in this story learns three hard lessons: (1) No matter how tough a person (or rooster) may think he is, there is always someone tougher; (2) no one is better than any other person; and (3) we don't really own anyone or anything, we only have use of it while we are alive. In this extra-short story, the mean rooster uses wrestling holds popular in the 60s and 70s to describe his fight with another rooster. If you like the story, please share it with your friends. The Rooster I own this place . It’s my territory so you better be careful. Yeah, I’m bad. Why, just the other day I had to spur a snot-nosed 5-year-old girl for disrespecting me. She lives in the big house on the hill with her parents and tosses me a few measly dried-up corn niblets every day. Th

The Search for God

In this short story, I present a humorous little story about a man's quest to understand our existence. The underlying message is that sometimes we can get in a lot of trouble by expressing our religious beliefs. If you like this blog, please share this link with your friends and follow me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Your comments, good or bad, encourage me to continue. The Search for God Dear reader, I have a secret. Do you want to know what it is? Then keep reading, but I must warn you to never tell anyone or you’ll be crucified--or worse. The secret is the answer to three questions mankind has been asking for thousands of years: Who am I? What am I doing here? Where do I go at death? You’re probably wondering how I discovered these answers when billions of other people haven’t. Oh, they’ve imagined they had the answer – all the way to their graves. They believed the teachings given to them by organized religious lead

The Meaning of Life

Search This Blog