But I hurried the best I could through all the people to the toy department.
Once again I kind of mumbled to myself at the prices of all these toys.
And wondered if the grandkids would even play with them.  I found  myself in the doll aisle.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a little boy, about 5, holding a lovely doll. He kept touching her hair and he held her so gently. I could not seem to help myself. I just kept looking over at the  little boy and wondered who the doll was for. I watched him turn to a woman,  and he called his aunt by name and said,  "Are you sure I don't have enough money?"   She replied a
bit impatiently,  "You know that you don't have enough money for it."  The aunt told the little boy not to go anywhere, that she had to go get some other things and would be back in a few minutes. And then she left the aisle.

The boy continued to hold the doll.  After a bit I asked the boy who the doll was for.  He said, "It is the doll my sister wanted so badly for Christmas. She just knew that Santa would bring it." I told him that maybe Santa was going to bring it.  He said, "No, Santa can't go where my sister is...I have to give the doll to my Mamma to take to her."

I asked him where his sister was. He looked at me with the saddest eyes and said, "She has gone to be with Jesus."   "My Daddy says that Mama is going to have to go be with her." My heart nearly stopped beating. Then the boy looked at me again and said, "I told my Daddy to tell Mama not to go yet. I told him to tell her to wait till I got back from the store". Then he  asked me if I wanted to see his picture. I told him I would love to.

He pulled out some pictures he had taken at the front of the store. He said "I  want my Mamma to take this with her so she don't ever forget me." "I love my Mama so very much and I wish she did not have to leave me". "But Daddy says she will need to be with my sister."

I saw that the little boy had lowered his head and had grown so very quiet.
While he was not looking, I reached into my purse and pulled out a handful of bills. I asked the little boy, "Shall we count that money one more time? "
He grew excited and said "Yes, I just know it has to be enough".  So I slipped my money in with his, and we began to count it. Of course it was plenty for the doll.

He softly said, "Thank you, Jesus, for giving me enough money." Then the boy said "I just asked Jesus to give me enough money to buy this doll, so Mama can take it with her, to give to my sister."   "And He heard my prayer."
"I wanted to ask Him for enough to buy my Mama a white rose, but I didn't ask Him, but He gave me enough to buy the doll and a rose for my Mama." "She loves white roses so very, very much".

In a few minutes the aunt came back, and I wheeled my cart away.  I could not keep from thinking about the little boy as I finished my shopping in a totally different spirit than when I had started.  And I kept remembering a story I had seen in the newspaper several days earlier, about a drunk driver hitting a car and killing a little girl and leaving the Mother in serious
condition.  The family was deciding on whether to remove the life support.

Now surely this little boy did not belong with that story. Two days later, I read in the paper where the family had disconnected the life support and the young woman had died.  I could not forget the little boy, and just kept wondering if the two were somehow connected.  Later that day, I could not help myself and I went out and bought some white roses and took them to
the funeral home, where the young woman was.  And there she was, holding a lovely white rose, the beautiful doll, and the picture of the little boy in the store.

I left there in tears, my life changed forever. The love that little boy had for his little sister and his mother was overwhelming. And in a split second a drunk driver had ripped the life of that little boy to pieces.

You now have the choice, you can:

1) pass this on to your friends
2) delete it and act like it didn't touch your heart

"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."-anonymous.