Faith's Journey

Faith was going home. Gazing from the window of the 747 cruising high above the clouds, paradise seemed merely a breath away. She recalled the song her mother used to sing: "Oh, you'll never get to heaven in a Jumbo Jet 'cos the Lord ain't built no runway yet."

With the memory, Faith smiled in spite of the pain and fear. Time was quickly slipping past...the clock swiftly ticking away the seconds, the minutes, the hours. A month at most, the doctors predicted, possibly weeks...maybe mere days. Faith willed the plane to go faster.

Old Mister Bingham picked her up at the airport in his taxi and drove her to the little house. With a shake of his grey head, he refused the fare she offered him, eyes glistening with sympathy. "I am so very sorry," he said.

Faith's mother waved from her rocker on the porch. As always, Faith marvelled at the strength of spirit radiating from that frail body. She slowly started up the path as her mother's arms opened wide. Safe within the love and comfort only a mother can provide, Faith allowed herself the luxury of tears for the first time since hearing the news.

"Be strong and believe everything happens for a good reason," encouraged Faith's mother, stroking the crown of bright copper curls which rested in her lap. "You were not named Faith for nothing, sweetheart."

Happy to have her home, Faith's mother cradled her daughter tenderly. Such had been her privilege on the day baby Faith had been born. It would be no less a privilege on the day her beloved child was destined to die.

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