Mincemeat From Heaven???
“Mamma,” the note started.
“I don’t know what to say but by the time you get this, I’ll be on my trip. I know it will be quick and easy. I’ve planned it for a long time. I put everything away just like you always told me to do. Look, I cleaned my room…and…
Mamma, I love you.
Mamma, you have always been there for me and I am sorry I didn’t tell you about this trip. I know you, you would have tried to talk me out of going. I just had to take this trip, Mamma, but I will see you real soon. We will play on the swings like we used to in the summer when I loved to feel the wind on my face and the warm sun on my back.
I loved those times, Mamma, you can be sure of that. Do you remember playing in the sandbox with me? I used to try to dump the bucket over your head but you were always taller than me and could run faster. Remember? Well, I’m not sure if there are swing sets or sandboxes where I am going, but if there are, I’ll be waiting right there for you…and…
Mamma, I love you.”
Sarah sealed the envelope and put it on the top of her bed in the little room she lived in. It was one of the rooms reserved for the “easily agitated” of the institution. Some days she found herself wondering what it would be like to go to sleep and never wake up. The longer she thought about it, the more pleasant it seemed.
As she tenderly placed the envelope on the bed, ready to release herself from her empty existence, she prayed a quick prayer…“Our Father,” and that’s all she could remember. So she finished with saying, “I don’t know if You’re real, but if you are, I would like to have a piece of mincemeat pie. That would be really nice, God. Oh, and thank you. Please forgive me for what I am about to do. Amen.”
Her plans were interrupted by singing in the main room. She moved toward the door and looked out her peephole. She saw some ladies coming into the pod. It was Christmas Eve and they were singing carols.
She watched as they went to each girl’s door one by one. They were talking through the peepholes and she could hear laughter and excited screeching from her neighbors in the pod. “That’s odd” she thought as she went back to her bed.
There was a knock on her door and Sarah looked up. A gentle smile covered the entire hole. “Merry Christmas, honey. Would you like some pie? It’s home made. I’m sorry, but all we have left is mincemeat. Would you like a piece?”
Sarah’s heart raced as she looked up at the ceiling wondering what this meant. “Is this lady an angel? Is God really real? Nobody knows I like mincemeat pie. Nobody but Mamma, and maybe God, that is if He’s real.”
Shaken, Sarah answered, “Yes ma’am, thank you.” As she stood to open the peephole and retrieve her piece of pie, she picked up the suicide note, tore it up, and threw it away.
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