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Once upon a time...
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Once upon a time...


At the last minute, I hurried to return to me to the store to rays to make my purchases of Christmas. When I saw everyone that there was, I started to balk. " I will spend an interminable time here and I have still so many things to make "

Christmas really starts to become a drudgery. It would be so much well to lay down me and to awake me only after... But I was made a path until the department of the toys and there, I started to balk against the price of the toys by asking to me whether the children would really play with.

I found myself in the alley of the toys. Corner of the eye, I noticed a small catch of approximately 5 years which held a pretty small headstock against him... It did not stop cherishing the hair to him and to gently tighten it against him. I wondered who was intended the headstock.

Then the little boy was turned over towards the lady close to him: " My aunt, are you certain that I do not have enough of under? ". The lady answered him with a little impatience: " You know it that you do not have enough of under buying it ". Then his aunt asked him to remain there and to await it a few minutes. Then it left quickly.

The little boy always held the headstock in his hands. Finally, I moved towards him and asked him with which it wanted to give the headstock." It be the headstock that my small sister wish more than all for Christmas - It be sour that the Father Christmas him bring " I him say whereas it go perhaps him bring. It answered me sadly: " Not, the Father Christmas cannot go where my small sister is now... It is necessary that I give the headstock to my mom so that she brings to him " He had the so sad eyes by saying that. " It left to join Jesus. Dad says that Mammy will find Jesus as then soon it I thought as it could take the headstock with it and to give it to my small sister "

My heart almost stopped beating. The little boy raised the eyes towards me and said to me: " I told dad to tell mom not to immediately leave. I asked him to wait until I return from the store"

Then it showed me a photograph of him taken in the store on which it held the headstock while saying to me: " I want that mom brings also this photograph with it, like that, it will not forget me. I love my mom and I would like that it does not leave me but dad says that it is necessary that it goes with my small sister "

Then there lowered the head and remained quiet. I excavated in my handbag, left a bundle tickets and asked the little boy: " And if one recounted your under last once to see? " " Ok " says it " It is necessary that I have some enough " I slipped my money with there his and we started to count. There was amply for the headstock and even more.

Gently, the little boy murmured: " Thank you Jesus to have given me enough of under. "

Then it looked at me and says: " I had asked Jesus to arrange myself so that I have enough of under buying this headstock so that my mom can bring it to my sister. It heard my prayer. I wanted to also have enough of under buying a white pink with my mom but I did not dare to ask him. But it gave me enough of under buying the headstock and the white rose. You know, my mom loves the white roses so much... "

A few minutes later, his aunt returned and I moved away while pushing my basket. I finished my storing in a state of mind completely different from that in which I had begun it. I did not manage to forget the little boy. Then, I remembered a article published in the newspaper a few days before which spoke about a drunk conductor which had struck a car in which was a young woman and her daughter. The small girl had died on the blow and the seriously wounded mother. The family was to decide if they were going to make it disconnect respirator. Was it the family of this little boy?

Two days, I read later in the newspaper which the young woman had died. I pus to prevent me from going to buy a white pink bunch and to return to me to the funeral show where was exposed the young lady. She was there, holding a pretty white pink in her hand, with the headstock and the photograph of the little boy in the store. I left the show while crying feeling that my life would change for always. The love that this little boy tested for his mom and his sister was so incredible. And in a split second, a drunk conductor had very removed to him.

Now, you have two choices:

1) to transmit this message to those which you know
2) to erase this message and to make as if this history did not moved you.

But if you transmit it, perhaps will join it somebody enough to prevent it from leading after having taken alcohol...

The friends are angels which raise us when our wings are not able any more to remember how to fly...





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Francité