“Don’t be troubled. I’ll take you with me, so that you can
be where I am." ~ John 14: 1,3
At age seven, Ayaan radiated
childhood innocence, still believing in Santa, cartoon characters, and
imaginary friends. Each day on the way
to school, he dodged the perils of Garfield Park, one of Chicago’s most
dangerous neighborhoods, by stopping at church to say his daily prayers.
One morning out of curiosity, Father Gupta hid near the
altar to hear what Ayaan had to say.
Please don't be mad at
Dad, he’s just scared and worries about putting food on our table. That’s why he hits me. It hurts but the pain will go away soon. At least I still have a Dad.
My shoes are almost
worn through. Some kids do bad things
for fancy ‘Kicks’, but I know You don’t like that. They should last until school’s out - then I
can go barefoot this summer.
Oh yeh, I think I’m in
love. There’s a pretty girl in my class
– do you think you can put in a good word for me? If not that’s OK. I know You will always love me; You’re my
best friend. Oooops, I gotta go . . ."
Later that day, a small group of thugs robbed and beat the
small child to death. At the funeral home,
Pastor Gupta listened as grieving parents described their child – so loving, curious,
carefree.
“Do you know the man who just left,” asked Ayaan’s Dad. “We don’t know him but he seemed to know
Ayaan well, claiming they talked frequently at your church.”
The Priest looked confused, “What’d he look like?”
“He was tall, dressed in a white shirt and slacks,” the
father began. “There was something soothing
yet mysterious about him. He smiled
warmly and kissed my boy’s lifeless forehead.
Then he whispered “Don’t be afraid child, I’ll see you soon.”
“I can’t explain it, but when that man left, a gentle calm
washed over me. I felt a deep sense of
joy in my heart, I know my boy is in heaven now. It felt so wonderful . . . I cried,” the
father continued.
“Tell me Father, who was this man that my son talked to
everyday in your church?"
Father Gupta felt the tears welling in his eyes, with
trembling knees, he murmured, "He was talking to his best friend - Jesus. He couldn’t be in better hands now.”
Heavenly Father, You understand grief as you
know all. We lift up all grieving
parents. Fill them with Your peace. Give them the knowledge and faith to endure
even that which they can't understand. Your
Love is Life that can never taken from us. Amen
