Grief
My tears
have been
my meat
day
and
night.
[Psalms 42:3]
***********************
Time: Yesterday evening.
Place: The Pearly Front Gate
of Heaven.
Characters: Saint Peter,
and Angel Sylvestor.
_______________________
"Hey.....PETER?"
"What IS...it,
Angel Sylvestor?
Can't you see that
I'm....BUSY?"
"Well......"
Sylvestor reaches up to right his
leaning halo, but only makes matters
worse: the limp, dimly lit circle
of Light, hanging haphazardly over
the little angel's brown curly mess
of frizzy hair, leans even further
over his mousey-brown-brows.
"What should I do with this.....
cute, fuzzy...DOG? She's been here for HOURS!
And....I wanna take her back to my
CLOUD...and give her some DINNER..
but she won't FOLLOW me!"
Saint Peter chuckles. He leans
over and pats the cute dog's fuzzy,
reddish-brown head. The dog whimpers,
rolls over on her back: all four legs
happily stretched toward the Heavenly
Sky.
"Aw.....don't worry about HER;
she's not going to budge for a WHILE!
She'll be fine here....just with ME!"
Sylvestor crouches down to scratch
the cute dog's fuzzy tummy: his gauzy
dirty-white angelic gown making a soft
puddle of cloth on the Golden Tiles.
"She's so CUTE!
What's her....NAME?"
Saint Peter, already absorbed in the newest
list of newcomers, clipped to his big
weatherered clipboard: murmurs
absentmindedly.
"CHISPA."
"Ahhh!"
Sylvestor continues to rub the
dog's fuzzy belly. Chispa whines some
more: a delightfully contented whine.
"When....she GET here?"
Saint Peter pulls out a big gold watch, on a
long gold chain, from his gown pocket. He
squints down at it, and then sticks it,
rather absentmindedly, back into
his pocket. He continues gazing very
seriously at his old, weathered clipboard:
making notes here and there.
"Oh.....YESTERDAY.....about....FOUR!"
Sylvestor lets Chispa lick his small angelic
plump cheeks, and bulbous of a nose.
"Well....I want her to come home with...me!
She can snooze up on my bunk-CLOUD!
And.....eat my SNACKS!"
Saint Peter glances over his small
reading glasses at the reddish-brown
fuzzy dog, and the small plump, dishelveled
angel. Then he immediately begins
perusing the newest newcomer-list,
once more.
"Hm.....Chispa's really sweet....
but, she's not going to follow you,
Sylvestor. SORRY....."
Sylvestor's plump, pink mouth, slightly
dotted with doggie-slurp, turns down
sorrowfully.
"But....why NOT?
I LOVE DOGS!
I'll take real good....CARE 'a HER!
You know....THAT!"
Saint Peter sighs.
Everytime Angel Sylvestor shows up
at the Front Gate, he tends to chatter
on, and on.....distracting the Key and Gate Keeper
from all his paper-work.
"Because,
Angel Sylvestor....
Chispa wants to stay right HERE...
don't worry! She'll be just FINE!
I'll keep her COMPANY, and make
sure she gets plenty of treats
and TOYS!"
Sylvestor, his little plump pink face
pulled down in a puckered frown, scrambles
up from the Gold Tiled Floor.
"But...HOW COME?
Why doesn't....she wanna' come home,
with ME?
Peter smiles, and then leans down once
more to scratch behind Chispa's right
furry-reddish-brown ear.
"Because......
she wants to stay right here...
waiting...
for her...
beloved."
**************************
And,
God
shall wipe
away
all
tears
from
their
eyes.
[Revelation 21:4]
Copyright 2013.
In memory:
Sweet baby Chispa.
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