She was a sad, lonely looking child. I wouldnít even had noticed her except for the flower protruding from her hand. It was a daisy with half the petals missing. She sat on the curbside face down, hands together with fingers entwined around the drooping yellow and white flora. I was in a hurry as usual, but something about her made me stop.
Are you okay little girl.
She did not look up right away, but slowly raised her head and smiled. I noticed a dry line down both cheeks where tears had recently fallen.
Yes, sir, Iím just fine.
What happened to the petals on your flower?
I pulled them off.
I was trying to decide if I was happy or not.
This response intrigued me, so with a grunt and quite a bit of effort I managed to sit down beside her.
Did something make you sad?
Yes, my mommy died on Thursday and I just came from the cemetery.
Iím sorry, was she sick?
No, she was in a car accident.
Oh, I see. Is that one of the flowers from the funeral?
No, I picked it while walking home. It was just standing there all alone beside the road and I thought Iíd take it and look at it for awhile.
What happened to the missing petals?
I was counting them. I pulled one off for feeling sad and one off for feeling happy.
Why did you stop?
I didnít want to get to the last one and end on sad.
Are you still sad?
No, not any more.
My daddy told me that mommy was in heaven and that there is no sadness and no one ever has to cry, so I decided that I wouldnít be sad either because I didnít want my mommy to have any reason not to be happy.
I turned my head to hide the tear that raced down my cheek.
She looked over at me.
Are you sad?
I stood up, still looking away.
Oh, no sweetheart. I donít think I could ever be sad again.
Are you going to heaven one day, she asked?
I looked down at her and smiled the best smile I ever smiled.
Why, yes I am.
She stood up and handed me the flower.
Iíll see you there.
With that she skipped away singing a happy song and I watched her with a new happiness in my heart.
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