luckily i have a box of tissue right next to me!  *smile*  This is good 
phil!
Jen and MAMA-Star
"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble 
remembering how to fly."
Author unknown
AIM: jenibear1998
msn
[log in to unmask]
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Phil Scovell" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Thursday, February 23, 2006 12:04 AM
Subject: Fw: Get the Tissue


>> Right before the jetway door closed, I scrambled aboard the plane going
> from
>> LA to Chicago, lugging my laptop and overstuffed briefcase. It was the
> first
>> leg of an important business trip a few weeks before Christmas, and I was
>> running late. I had a ton of work to catch up on. Half wishing, half
> praying
>> I muttered, "Please God, do me a favor; let there be an empty seat next 
>> to
>> mine, I don't need any distractions."
>>
>> I was on the aisle in a two seat row. Across sat a businesswoman with her
>> nose buried in a newspaper. No problem. But in the seat beside mine, next
> to
>> the
>> window, was a young boy wearing a big red tag around his neck: "Minor -- 
>> Traveling Unattended."
>>
>> The kid sat perfectly still, hands in his lap, eyes straight ahead. He'd
>> probably been told never to talk to strangers. "Good," I thought.
>>
>> Then the flight attendant came by. "Michael, I have to sit down because
>> we're about to take off," she said to the little boy. "This nice man will
>> answer
>> any of your questions, okay?"
>>
>> Did I have a choice? I offered my hand, and Michael shook it twice,
> straight
>> up and down.
>>
>> "Hi, I'm Jerry," I said. "You must be about seven years old."
>>
>> "I'll bet you don't have any kids," he responded.
>>
>> "Why do you think that? Sure I do." I took out my wallet to show him
>> pictures.
>>
>> "Because I'm six."
>>
>> "I was way off, huh?"
>>
>> The captains' voice came over the speakers, "Flight attendants, prepare
> for
>> takeoff."
>>
>> Michael pulled his seat belt tighter and gripped the armrests as the jet
>> engines roared.
>>
>> I leaned over, "Right about now, I usually say a prayer. I asked God to
> keep
>> the plane safe and to send angels to protect us."
>>
>> "Amen," he said, then added, "But I'm not afraid of dying. I'm not afraid
>> because my mama's already in Heaven."
>>
>> "I'm sorry." I said.
>>
>> "Why are you sorry?" he asked, peering out the window as the plane lifted
>> off.
>>
>> "I'm sorry you don't have your mama here."
>>
>> My briefcase jostled at my feet, reminding me of all the work I needed to
>> do.
>>
>> "Look at those boats down there!" Michael said as the plane banked over
> the
>> Pacific. "Where are they going?"
>>
>> "Just going sailing, having a good time. And there's probably a fishing
> boat
>> full of guys like you and me."
>>
>> "Doing what?" He asked.
>>
>> "Just fishing, maybe for bass or tuna. Does your dad ever take you
> fishing?"
>>
>> "I don't have a dad," Michael sadly responded.
>>
>> Only six years old and he didn't have a dad, and his Mom had died, and
> here
>> he was flying halfway across the country all by himself. The least I 
>> could
>> do
>> was make sure he had a good flight. With my foot I pushed my briefcase
> under
>> my seat.
>>
>> "Do they have a bathroom here?" he asked, squirming a little.
>>
>> "Sure," I said, "Let me take you there."
>>
>> I showed him how to work the "Occupied" sign, and what buttons to push on
>> the sink, then he closed the door. When he emerged, he wore a wet shirt
> and
>> a
>> huge smile.
>>
>> "That sink shoots water everywhere!"
>>
>> The attendants smiled.
>>
>> Michael got the VIP treatment from the crew during snack time. I took out
> my
>> laptop and tried to work on a talk I had to give, but my mind kept going
> to
>> Michael. I couldn't stop looking at the crumpled grocery bag on the floor
> by
>> his seat. He'd told me that everything he owned was in that bag. Poor 
>> kid.
>>
>> While Michael was getting a tour of the cockpit the flight attendant told
> me
>> his grandmother would pick him up in Chicago. In the seat pocket a large
>> manila
>> envelope held all the paperwork regarding his custody. He came back
>> explaining, "I got wings! I got cards! I got more peanuts. I saw the 
>> pilot
>> and he said
>> I could come back anytime!"
>>
>> For a while he stared at the manila envelope.
>>
>> "What are you thinking?" I asked Michael.
>>
>> He didn't answer. He buried his face in his hands and started sobbing. It
>> had been years since I'd heard a little one cry like that. My kids were
>> grown
>> -- still I don't think they'd ever cried so hard. I rubbed his back and
>> wondered where the flight attendant was.
>>
>> "What's the matter buddy?" I asked.
>>
>> All I got were the muffled words, "I don't know my grandma. Mama didn't
> want
>> her to come visit and see her sick. What if Grandma doesn't want me? 
>> Where
>> will I go?"
>>
>> "Michael, do you remember the Christmas story? Mary and Joseph and the
> baby
>> Jesus? Remember how they came to Bethlehem just before Jesus was born? It
>> was
>> late and cold, and they didn't have anywhere to stay, no family, no
> hotels,
>> not even hospitals where babies could be born. Well, God was watching out
>> for
>> them. He found them a place to stay; a stable with animals."
>>
>> "Wait, wait," Michael tugged on my sleeve.. "I know Jesus. I remember
> now."
>> Then he closed his eyes, lifted his head and began to sing. His voice 
>> rang
>> out
>> with a strength that rocked his tiny frame. "Jeeesus looooves
> me--thiiiiiis
>> I knowwwwwww. For the Biiiiiible tells meeeeee sooooo....."
>>
>> Passengers turned or stood up to see the little boy who made the large
>> sound. Michael didn't notice his audience. With his eyes shut tight and
>> voice lifted
>> high, he was in a good place.
>>
>> "You've got a great voice," I told him when he was done.. "I've never
> heard
>> anyone sing like that."
>>
>> "Mama said God gave me good pipes just like my grandma's," he said. "My
>> grandma loves to sing, she sings in her church choir."
>>
>> "Well, I'll bet you can sing there, too. The two of you will be running
> that
>> choir."
>>
>> The seat belt sign came on as we approached O'Hare. The flight attendant
>> came by and said, "We just have a few minutes now." But she told Michael
>> that it
>> was important that he put his seat belt on. People started stirring in
> their
>> seats, like the kids before the final school bell. By the time the seat
> belt
>> sign went off, passengers were rushing down the aisle. Michael and I
> stayed
>> seated.
>>
>> "Are you gonna go with me?" he asked.
>>
>> "I wouldn't miss it for the world, buddy!" I assured him.
>>
>> Clutching his bag and the manila envelope in one hand, he grabbed my hand
>> with the other. The two of us followed the flight attendant down the
> jetway.
>> All
>> the noises of the airport seemed to fill the corridor.
>>
>> Michael stopped, slipping his hand from mine, he dropped to his knees. 
>> His
>> mouth quivered. His eyes brimmed with tears.
>>
>> "What's wrong Michael? I'll carry you if you want."
>>
>> He opened his mouth and moved his lips, but it was as if his words were
>> stuck in his throat. When I knelt next to him, he grabbed my neck. I felt
>> his warm,
>> wet face as he whispered in my ear, "I want my mama!"
>>
>> I tried to stand, but Michael squeezed my neck even harder. Then I heard 
>> a
>> rattle of footsteps on the corridor's metal floor.
>>
>> "Is that you, baby?"
>>
>> I couldn't see the woman behind me, but I heard the warmth in her voice.
>>
>> "Oh baby," she cried. "Come here. Grandma loves you so much. I need a 
>> hug,
>> baby. Let go of that nice man." She knelt beside Michael and me.
>>
>> Michael's grandma stroked his arm. I smelled a hint of orange blossoms.
>>
>> "You've got folks waiting for you out there, Michael.. Do you know that
>> you've got aunts, and uncles and cousins?"
>>
>> She patted his skinny shoulders and started humming. Then she lifted her
>> head and sang. I wondered if the flight attendant told her what to sing,
> or
>> maybe
>> she just knew what was right. Her strong, clear voice filled the
> passageway,
>> "Jesus loves me -- this I know..."
>>
>> Michael's gasps quieted. Still holding him, I rose, nodded "hello" to his
>> grandma and watched her pick up the grocery bag. Right before we got to
> the
>> doorway
>> to the terminal, Michael loosened his grip around my neck and reached for
>> his grandma.
>>
>> As soon as she walked across the threshold with him, cheers erupted. From
>> the size of the crowed, I figured family, friends, pastors, elders,
> deacons,
>> choir
>> members and most of the neighbors had come to meet Michael. A tall man
>> tugged on Michael's ear and pulled off the red sign around his neck. It 
>> no
>> longer
>> applied.
>>
>> As I made my way to the gate for my connecting flight, I barely noticed
> the
>> weight of my overstuffed briefcase and laptop. I started to wonder who
> would
>> be in the seat next to mine this time. .... And I smiled.
>>
>> ~By Jerry Seiden~
>>
>> Well, what did you think? Needed some Kleenex didn't you.
>>
>> My computer is old and won't handle sending Kleenex --
>>
>> sorry.
>>
>> God bless us everyone
>>