A Prayer for Mom (story)

The boy got up, pushed open the door and rushed into the hallway. He had to get out of here---down the hospital corridor, past the X-ray Department and toilets. There’s the elevator and a row of buttons. He pressed them all. His stomach was upset; he needed fresh air and finally saw the sign ‘Stairs’.

Legs were in motion again. Except this time they raced each other down the stairs. Another set, and another until he saw Main Floor beside the Exit sign. People were everywhere; healthy ones and sick ones. He knew anyone with a cane could not run; but he did---right out the front door. It was too hard staying in mom’s room, especially when dad said mom had only a short time left.

An empty bench outside the hospital welcomed him. And he sat and cried. Not just for himself, but for his dad and sister too; she was younger than him. They were probably wondering where he was. Not his mother though, she was too sick. He thought if he prayed more often she would get better. But she seemed to get worse.

When mom tried to get everyone to pray with her today he couldn’t do it. What if she got sicker? Somehow she had to get better. He wanted her to be home. He looked up as a lady with brown hair came towards him. “Not feeling good today, are we?”

“It’s okay,” he answered. “I’m feeling better now.” And got up then walked over to the garden. Flowers were showing off their colours. He knew his mother was more like a beautiful red rose. His family must be wondering where he was, and should get back. Returning was not really a joy since mom will still be sick in bed; and his dad and sister probably crying. It was so sad.

He stepped into the elevator and mistakenly got off on the third floor. Since it had already gone, the boy decided to find the exit stairwell and walk up one more floor. As he looked around he noticed a chapel beside him and something drew him in.

He was alone in the room and sat in the first pew. Everything was silent as if waiting for something to happen. What if she doesn’t make it? No one loves me like mom, wailed inside his chest. During his sadness, he had a private chat with God. The boy knew all about Him from Sunday School and he shared all his sorrow. Suddenly dad came hurrying through the doorway. “Mom’s gone, son” and his father grabbed a hold of him.

At first the boy was overcome with tears then settled down. “Dad, me and God had a little chat. He said He would look after mom.” His father sat with his son on a pew. There was a silence between them for a few moments before the boy said, “I’m going to miss her so much dad. Okay if we pray together?”

© Richard L. Provencher

A Direct Link for Provencher Author Page, on Amazon.com:

http://www.amazon.com/Esther-and-Richard-Provencher/e/B00O8K9UKE