| Flowers of Faith |
| The book was hidden way at the back of the shelf, lost behind the scrapbooks and picture albums of several generations. Elise found it and pulled it out, studying the faded picture of a tiny baby that graced the front. Inside she found pressed flowers, nothing more; no words, no pictures, only one flower or small arrangement on each page. A pink carnation, a setting of wildflowers, a small daisy, a cluster of yellow rose petals, a single pink rose. Elise ran her fingers over the plastic covers, feeling the slight bumps the dried flowers made.
"Grandma? What is this?" She carried it to the woman and leaned against the chair arm. Her Grandmother Bethany took the book gently. "This is Baby Faith's book." "Faith? Your first baby?" Elise looked closer, wondering. "Will you tell me about it?" Bethany closed her eyes and began speaking, remembering like it was yesterday. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Thwumpa, thwumpa. The sound of our baby's heartbeat filled the room and I thought I would overflow with happiness. But the nurse turned abruptly from the ultrasound. "I'll be right back." Concerned, I studied the fuzzy image of our baby up on the screen, searching for any sign of a problem. When the nurse returned with the doctor, Aaron touched my arm and I realized I was squeezing his hand hard. I tried to relax, but the doctor turned and looked solemnly at us and I clutched even more tightly. "It's a girl!" A bit of a smile glimmered in the doctor's eyes before he sobered. "The left side of your daughter's heart is abnormally small. We will need to do some more testing, but it looks like she will have to have open heart surgery shortly after she is born, and then two more surgeries in the first two years of her life." I buried my head in Aaron's shoulder and wept. That day was long. Aaron returned to work, and I paced the house alone. Just me and the baby. My baby who's heart would fail her. When Aaron finally arrived home, he came straight to me, a bouquet of pink carnations in his hands. He held me close and then lifted my chin and kissed me. "We'll get through this together, Bethany," he told me. "God will see us through." I touched the frail petals and I voiced the words that had pounded through my head all day. "Why would He let such a little one have such pain?" And then the worse question. "Has He given her to us only to take her away?" Aaron was quiet for a time. "It could be," he chose his words carefully, "that this baby needs a special home. A special family to love her for the short time she on earth." But then his eyes brightened and he laid a hand on my belly. "Or perhaps God has already healed her!" Hope filled our empty despair and we smiled into each other's eyes. We did not understand. But we had faith in The One Who Did. Five months later…. I stared at the wildflowers on the hospital windowsill. Labor had gone on for hours and my tired eyes could only find a mad swirl of colors. The next thing I remember is a baby's cry, jerking me back to reality. I craned, desperate to see beyond the screen hanging above my waist. "She's doing fine!" The doctor's voice brought a flood of relief. The nurse was beaming as she held our baby for us to see. Aaron touched her cheek, this child, our Baby Faith. We watched with hearts so mixed with joy and sorrow, love and pain, as they took her away to monitor the heart struggling so hard to pump. And still we prayed, prayed for healing. Two weeks later… Faith's surgery had not been a success. Her heart was too damaged, they said, too damaged to fix. The only thing now, was to wait for a heart. A new heart. A transplant. And so the waiting began. We held her tightly, whispering to her and singing. Watching her body fight the drugs that kept her alive. Every day we prayed, prayed that this would be the day that brought a new heart. Each day God said, "Hold her close and love this daughter of Mine. Today is your day with her." I kissed her head, right next to the daisy that peeked out of her headband. Faith cooed, brushing my cheek with her velvet-soft hand. Six weeks later… The room rang with silence, the doctors and nurses standing with shoulders drooped, the machines quiet. Time stopped as we held her one last time, releasing her gently into arms more loving even than our own. Then we held each other, Aaron and I. Although the pain was strong, we rejoiced in those days we had spent with Faith, touching her, seeing her smile. We knew that the day had finally come. Faith had been healed more fully than any surgery ever could. Our families were waiting in the hall. We sat around a plastic table, a bouquet of yellow roses at its center, and wept together. Prayed together. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ "And the pink one?" Elise touched the last flower in the book, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Grandma Bethany raised her eyes to the mantle. A single pink rose arched majestically from a etched glass vase. "Today is the anniversary of her homegoing." Bethany smiled. "Two months we had with her. Two precious months." This fictional story was inspired by the life of Faith Harris (Aug 8, 2005 ~ Oct 6, 2005) |
| © 2005, Amy Michelle Wiley Posted here with author's permission. |
| Amy writes that recently a family in a church she attended in the past had a baby born with heart trouble. The baby was unable to get a transplant in time and passed away about a month ago. Amy wrote this short fiction story based on the baby's life. May you find encouragement and faith in this heartwarming story ~ Ferna |
 |
|
|
| A Christian Grief Ministry |
Rainbow Faith Home About Our Ministry Good Grief! Grief Poems & Stories Life After Loss Weekly Column Create a Memorial Memorial Directory Sympathy Gifts Site Map Archives Links Contact Us Guestbook |
100's of Inspirational Grief Poems and Stories. . |
 |