On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to go to the supermarket to buythe remaining of the gifts I didn’t manage to buy earlier. When I saw all the people there, I started to complain to myself: ‘It is going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go. Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year. How I wish I could just lie down, go to sleep and only wake up after it…’
Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to curse the prices, wondering if after all kids really play with such expensive toys. While looking in the toy section, I noticed a small boy of about 5 years old, pressing a doll against his chest. He kept on touching the hair of the doll and looked so sad. I wondered who this doll was for. Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him: “Granny, are you sure I dont have enough money?” The old lady replied: “You know that you dont have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.” Then she asked him to stay there for 5 minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.

Finally, I started to walk towards him and I asked him who he wanted to give this doll to. “It is the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her.”

I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus will bring it to her afterall, and not to worry. But he replied to me sadly. “No, Santa Claus cannot bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can give it to her when she goes there.”

His eyes were so sad w hile saying this. “My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mummy will also go to see God very soon, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister”. My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said: “I told daddy to tell mummy not to go yet. I asked him to wait until I came back from the supermarket”. Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me:”I also want mummy to take this photo with her so that she will not forget me. I love my mummy and I wish she doesn’t have to leave me but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister”.

Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly. I quickly
reached for my wallet and took a few notes and said to the boy. “What if we checked again, just in case if you have enough money?” “Ok” he said. “I hope that I have enough”. I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the
doll, and even some left over. The little boy said: “Thank you God for giving me enough money”. Then he looked at me and added: “I asked yesterday before I went to sleep for God to make sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mummy can give it to my sister. He heard me. I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mummy, but didn’t dare to ask God too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and the white rose. You know, my mummy loves white roses”.

A few minutes later, the old lady came back again and I left with my trolley. I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started. I couldnt get the little boy out of my mind. Then I remembered a local newspaper article 2 days ago, which mentioned of a
drunk man in a truck who hit a car where there was one young lady and a
little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able to get out of the coma. Was this the family of the little boy?
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young lady had passed away. I couldn’t stop myself and went to buy a bunch of white roses and I went to the mortuary where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wish before burial. She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest. I left the place crying, feeling that my life had been changed forever.

The love that this little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk man had taken all this away from him.
~~~~****~~~~****

my friend billy send me this e-mail, and it is still making me tear up. so i thought i’d share it with all of you

American Girls
By Rachel Williams

* Four girls woke up early
With stretches and yawns
Just as they did
When each new day dawns
* Each got out of bed
washed her face and got dressed
And brushed out her hair
So that she’d look her best
* In four different houses
They each went downstairs
Gave their fathers a kiss
And sat down in their chairs
* They said “hi” and made teases
To their sisters and their brothers
And they got a big hug
From each of their mothers
* They talked and they laughed
They made plans to have fun
Their mom’s said it was time
They said breakfast was done
* The girls packed up their books
And they started to leave
But their mother’s said “WAIT”
“Take your lunch. Fix your sleeve”
* They kissed and they hugged
Said “goodbye” and “have fun”
Then the girls all went out
And they started to run
* The girls ran for the bus
They ran very fast
Never knowing those hugs
Had been their last
* At school they saw friends
Went to class, had a test
They passed notes, and they giggled
“Do you like my new vest?”
* Then a bell started to ring
“fire drill. This is fun”
And they all walked outside
Into the midday sun
* No fire was burning
There was no plan for a drill
But something so evil
Was outside on the hill
* They were four little girls
Only ten and eleven
When they walked out of their school
Two boys sent them to heaven
* “What’s that noise?” “Oh my god!”
“What’s happening?” “Help, I’m hurt!”
And a nightmare went on
Children’s blood, in the dirt
* Children running and screaming
Falling down with such pain
And the boys kept on shooting
Again and again
* The boys were so careful
They had made up a plan
Teach the girls a lesson
“Never turn down a man”
* Children scream “help it hurts!”
“Make it stop!” “Help I’m bleeding”
“Get a doctor” “Hurry! Quick”
“Dear God these four aren`t breathing”
* Parents crying with grief
The whole town sharing their pain
For Four little girls
Whose deaths were in vain
* The girls were so young
Not much past ten
When they became the victims
Of the violence of men
* Men rape and they beat
They start wars and they kill
And they teach little boys
That its some kind of thrill
* Boys learn their lessons
From the men in this world
And its not safe to be near them
If your a woman or girl
* Four little girls
Killed by boys not yet men
Four little girls
When will it happen again?