Saturday 2 February 2008

".....and God gave me Ethan...."


Received this email from my buddy Veg, writing about her account of her son Ethan and the other whom she lost, Andrew.


I was 'ja-ga-ing' the car, parked outside the Chocs & Nuts shop while a visiting friend was busy buying nuts back to S'pore for CNY. Ethan was in the car with me. As usual, he was chatty and was talking about him being strong now. And the conversation went :

E = Mummy, I'm strong now, look. I can buckle myself, look. I'm a good boy right?
M = Wow, what a strong boy you are now. And yes, you are a good boy.
E = Mummy. Mummy. I'm a good boy. I'm a big boy. I'm strong now. I can hold the baby. I can help take care of the baby. Right? Mummy? Right?
M = Yes you are.
E = I can hold my baby. I can share my toys with my baby. I can play with my baby. And you can go cook, and we can watch TV.....

(etc etc He was sort of talking to himself .....I turned around and looked at him.)

M = Ethan, what are you talking about? Which baby are you talking about?
E = .....
M = Are you talking about baby Andrew?
E = ..... Yes.
M = Baby (that's what I call Ethan), you know where is baby Andrew right?
E = ..... in heaven?
M = Yes. We told you, remember?
E = ..... nooooooo, I mean when he comes back, when he comes back I'll play with him.
M = Baby, Andrew is not coming back. He is in heaven. He cant come back.
E = ..... noooooooo. I'm talking about another baby. (Ethan has this 'talent' of changing topic/subject when he gets 'stuck' in the original version.)
M = ..... well, ok, maybe. ...... Maybe we can ask God to give us another baby. .....and if we get to keep the baby this time, you can help take care of it ....

By now, I was drawn into my own world, looking out of my own window, half talking to myself actually ....... and then I heard Ethan .....

E = Oh, I've a great idea. Maybe we can ask for babies not to go to heaven. Yes, I've a good idea, we can pray to God, and ask God for babies not to go to heaven. Right? Mummy? Right? It's a super great idea.

I turned around once again, looked at him, amazed at how adoring my little Ethan is. He was beaming with enthusiasm, eyes shining bright with the 'super great idea' that he came up with.

M = .....well, that's nice. You think so?
E = Yes. Switch off the music Mummy. Yes. Keep quiet. Don't talk. Yes. I'm gonna pray. Don't talk. Don't look at me. Turn around Mummy. Yes.

In the next 10 silent seconds in the car, I heard my little son mumbled a little prayer, for me. I cried. Not that I've actually really stopped crying since the day I lost Andrew. I cried as the pain of lost creeps back into my veins. I cried as I feel the joy of knowing the giant faith that is in the little boy I call my son, now sitting in the same car as I am. I was reminded of how little faith I have. I was reminded of verses like "..... if you have faith as small as the mustard seed ....." and " .... for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these (the little children) ....."

I thank God that He is my comforter. I thank God that He has sent His angels to guard me and lift me, lest I dash my foot against a stone (Psalm 91). Little did I expect my Guardian Angel would come in the form of a size 110.

Do continue to keep me in your prayers. For strength and peace to rule me. For protection from fear and depression. For wisdom and guidance to teach Ethan daily.

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