The Little Boy  
The The LittlTheTh Little Boye BoyThe Little Boy 
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Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. 
She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see 
him?”
The surgeon said, “I’m sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn’t make it.”
Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer? Doesn’t God care any more? 
Where were you, God, when my son needed you?”
The surgeon asked, “Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the 
nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he’s transported to the university.”
 
Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good-bye to son. She ran 
her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.
“Would you like a lock of his hair?” the nurse asked.
Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy’s hair, put it in a plastic 
bag and handed it to Sally. The mother said, “It was Jimmy’s idea to donate his 
body to the university for study. He said it might help somebody else. “I said 
no at first, but Jimmy said, ‘Mom, I won’t be using it after I die. Maybe it 
will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.” She went on, 
“My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting 
to help others if he could.”
 
Sally walked out of Children’s mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending 
most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy’s belongings on 
the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even 
harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy’s belongings, and the 
plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son’s room. She started placing 
the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had 
always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried 
herself to sleep.
 
It was around midnight when Sally awoke.. Laying beside her on the bed was a 
folded letter. The letter said:
“Dear Mom, I know you’re going to miss me; but don’t think that I will ever 
forget you, or stop loving you, just ’cause I’m not around to say I LOVE YOU. I 
will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each 
other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won’t be so 
lonely, that’s okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. 
But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn’t like the same 
things us boys do. You’ll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. 
Don’t be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and 
Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will 
take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch 
them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn’t look like any of his pictures. Yet, 
when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess 
what, Mom? I got
 to sit on God’s knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That’s 
when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good-bye and 
everything. But I already knew that wasn’t allowed. Well, you know what Mom? 
God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I 
think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to 
you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked 
Him ‘Where was He when I needed him?’ “God said He was in the same place with 
me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is 
with all His children.
 
Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I’ve written except you. To 
everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn’t that cool? I have to 
give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names in the Book of 
Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I’m, sure the 
food will be great.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don’t hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. 
I’m glad because I couldn’t stand that pain anymore and God couldn’t stand to 
see me hurt so much, either. That’s when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get 
me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?



 
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