The following story has been inspired by a visit to the "Little Angels In Heaven" website.  The author is a mother herself, and was greatly affected by the stories she read there.  She asked me if I would post her story on my site, and it is with great honour that I do so.

"Why are you here?" asked the gentle old woman.  The little girl didn't reply for a long time.  She looked pensively at the park surrounded by fog.  It was very quiet here.  She liked sitting on the bench with the old woman.  The little girl looked away from the swing that swayed hypnotically with the warm breeze.  She looked up into the soft blue eyes of the old woman and quietly replied, "I'm here because it's safe." "Don't you miss your Mommy, Little One?" "A bit," said the girl while fidgiting with the lace trim of her favorite pink dress. "Would you like me to take you home?" The girl shook her head vehemently. "Why not?" Once again the little girl waited a long time before answering, "I'm afraid." "I'm sure your Mommy can help," said the old woman convincingly. "Nuh uh she won't, she never has."      The old woman reached out and lifted the little girl onto her lap to envelop her in a protective, comforting hug. "Now how about you tell me what you're afraid of." The little girl had never felt so safe and so loved that she was no longer afraid to tell the truth.  "Daddy gets really mad when I'm naughty." The old woman held her tighter and planted a gentle kiss on her forhead, then asked, "Does he hurt you when he's mad?"  Now the little girl's face was buried in the old woman's neck, so that when she answered "yes", the old woman barely heard her. "Does your Mommy know he hurts you?" This time the little girl only nodded.  "She tries to make my hurts go away, but she can't." The old woman continued to hold her and rocked her gently as they listenned to the muted coo of a dove.  The fog had thickened while they talked, and now the park was barely visible.  "Would you like to come with me, or would you like to go back?"  The little girl's head snapped up and her eyes filled with hope.  "Can I?  Really?  I don't ever have to go back?"  While gently brushing away a tear that traced a path of sorrow down the little girl's cheek, the old woman replied, "Yes dear, it's your choice."  The little girl hopped off the old woman's lap and stared hard at her, trying to decide if she could trust her.  Then she heard her mother's voice faintly calling "Honey, please come back to us, Daddy's very sorry."  The little girl turned toward the voice and saw only the thick fog that had completely obscured the park.  She looked again at the old woman who was patiently awaiting her answer.  The little girl finally understood the love she saw in her eyes. "Grandma, please take me with you!" Her grandmother rose, held out her hand, and off they went.      Somewhere, very far away from the old woman, a mother softly sobbed while holding the small fragile hand of her daughter.  She tried to will her daughter out of her coma, but nothing seemed to work.  The mother rested her head on the pillow and spoke softly in her daughter's ear.  "Honey, please come back to us, Daddy's very sorry."  Moments later, the little girl whispered "Grandma," then took her last breath.

"The Choice" is the property of the author, and is not to be reproduced without first obtaining permission.