How well I remember, as if it were yesterday,
the nurse coming to get me.
She led me down to a room at the end of a hall.

Ominous words she spoke to me,
"The doctor wants to see you
and explain what needs to be."

The room was so cold and stark,
as windows showed cold winter everywhere.
The chill I felt run in my spirit ~
like none I could compare.

My heart was beating so fast.
My breath was hard to get.
First time I saw this room ... but,
I knew I would never ever forget.

The doctor entered the room,
his face so sad and stern,
to tell me things, so sad,
I really didn't want to learn.

"Your little son is dying.
We will do all we can."
Confirming something I think I knew;
Confirmed by this Godly Man.

I listened numbly, as he began to explain
treatments to prolong life for him.
It was necessary right now.
"The treatments must, right now, begin."

I heard the word Cobalt, and others,
and a paper I must sign;
papers of permission.
The tumors were not benign.

The days began a countdown,
as he sweetly allowed these things.
He was taking pictures, he said;
my little angel without wings.

How he would smile for them,
as the big machine began to hum.
Thank God he wasn't frightened.
For, if he was, what would I have done?

Little did he know
what they were doing every day;
never a whimper or a tear
as we began to watch and pray.

As the winter continued
he began to fail.
This sweet little boy of mine,
he had grown so awful pale.

As we sat our prayerful vigil,
we watched him fade away;
no longer the busy little boy,
no longer strength to play.

During a dreadful thunderstorm one night,
as he looked into the blackened sky,
"Look, there's Jesus and look how big he is."
All I saw was horrible black clouds pass by.

To him, it brought a wondrous peace.
For, he never really cried ~
Not even when the angels came
the afternoon he was to die.

As we stood at the graveside,
"Lord," I cried, "how we go on, I don't know,"
as we placed that tiny casket
under the cold winter blanket of snow.

Though many years have passed
and time has dimmed my eye,
a lesson on grief, on my walk,
that, sometimes, a child will die.

I know God has his reason
when he came to get him, that day.
Heaven seems much sweeter now
since my little one went from us away.

Many things I have forgotten
and it is better that I could;
but, many remembered,
as God knew I would.

Never will I forget
the room at the end of the hall,
when he passed from us here;
when he heard the angel call.

There have been hallways
with rooms, on this earth.
Some led to rooms filled with joy,
where his sisters were given birth.

Many rooms at hallway's end
to bring grief or joy.
One where we also welcomed him,
or precious little boy.

There, where we said, "Goodbye,"
and he left us sitting there;
feelings of such aloneness
and a pain too deep to share.

Every time I walk down a hallway,
my heart fills with many a memory.
But, I know there is a room
at the end of the hallway
where he waits for me.
Copyright 2003, by Sandra Griffin
Posted here with author's permission.

In memory of my little son, Harley Dale Griffin, Jr.
Long ago, to Heaven he went and makes Heaven
so much the sweeter for me.
The Room at the End of the Hall


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