I had stretched myself out this evening into my recliner. After a long weekend of sessions I simply wanted to escape into the low drone of the TV noise across the room and disconnect to a space where no one could reach me.
Leaning my head into the soft leather, I sighed deeply, shushed the dog chewing her toenails beside me, and took a big clean breath. How wonderful to have nothing to focus on in this moment…
I could feel the furrow on my forehead as I adjusted to the darkness beneath my closed lids and realized that I was not alone.
A small child was standing directly in front of me.No more than 8 years old she peered up at me with big hazel eyes and lips slightly opened revealing one missing tooth to the left of her front pair. Perfectly disheveled with braids that were releasing she looked as if she had just woken from an afternoon nap. I couldn’t help but want to know what she was doing here.
As I urged her to share she reached back behind her and brought forward a looping of twinkles. There was no start and no finish, just a constant turn of color bursts that seemed to jump from one moment into the next. I had never seen anything quite this wonderful and I smiled asking her what this was.
“They turn tears into twinkles here” she replied softly.
“Oh do they now…” I countered back. “Please explain to me what you mean”
She curled her energy to the floor and sat down peering up at me.
“Here in Heaven, they use tears. They collect them from every human that cries because they miss someone that lives here with me. It doesn’t matter who you are crying about either. Some people cry about their dog. And every time they cry we have people here that collect those tears. They just wait until you cry enough and then they reach down and scoop them from your face”
I cocked my head a little trying to understand the direction of this conversation, while she twirled the twinkles between her fingers…
“It’s a rule here in Heaven. Everyone except us kids collect tears from people who love them. And then they bring them here and decorate our Christmas tree!! We have the prettiest trees here, with better colors than a box of crayons!!”
I stared down at her.
“But honey, with all the stars out there, why would you need tears to light the trees? Why would they collect someones sadness to decorate Heaven?”
She stood up. Lifted her loop of light and told me to look closely. I leaned in until my nose was close to her cheek…and I watched….
Each twinkle produced a story. I saw breakfast tables and swimming holes. I saw laughing faces and bike rides. I watched babies giggle and waves goodbye out of a car window. I saw toddlers weaving back and forth and tipping over to the floor. I saw new puppies, brides and grooms, grandmothers and grandfathers..graduations and weddings..birthday cakes and running hugs.
She tapped me on my forehead and asked me what this meant. I glanced into her wise little face and said “Its love honey…its the story of love”
A tear escaped my closed eyes…she reached up her little finger and scooped it…
And holding it out she showed me…
A mommy and daddy…hanging a frame on the tree…a picture of a little girl in crooked braids with one tooth missing…
“Tears are not sad. Tears are love with nothing to hug. So they collect it all and bring it here. To light up Christmas for all us kids who can’t go home”
She waved her arm and behind her the edges began to light. For as far as I could see magnificent waves of brilliance shot out from every corner. Hues completely unimaginable in this world lifted upward as if pulled by an artists brush…
“Just tell them please. Tell mommy and daddy that their tears hang on my tree”
OK little one….
What else can I add to this…
There’s nothing left to say.
Hanna said it all for me.