My answer would be… yes!
To say I am unworthy of love and respect.
My answer would be… yes!
Now something has changed. Now, I was told to guard Hope.
I don't know why?
Hope is an 18-year-old girl… teaching me to see this world through her eyes. To see that there is humanity and love still left in this world.
But… as Hope teaches me what love really is... I will learn the price.
When an old enemy shows up… and we are torn apart… I pray that somewhere, written in the stars, I might see her one more time.
For Hope… My wish is that she remembers I once told her that life is worth fighting for.
As for myself… It will be either absolution, or my annihilation. But with a past like mine… I'm not looking too far into my future.
Hello… my name is Daniel.
Devotion
* Love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person or cause
Chapter 1 - Daniel’s story
I stood at the large metal doors taking a deep breath, letting a calm, surround me, before I pressed the call button. “Pediatric. ICU, can I help you?”
“Hello, Liz. It’s me, Daniel.”
Then I heard the click of the lock on the door, it sounded like thunder, in a place so quiet. As she unlocked the door for me, you could hear a pin drop. I opened the door and walked down the long hall to the nurse’s station. There were the glass doors to the patient’s rooms but most of them were closed and the curtains drawn. The sound of machines echoed off the walls. One thing I’ve learned working here is that you can smell life, fresh with belief. But death… death you can taste, bittersweet. The building’s marquee declared this Columbia Memorial Hospital. Even though I had passed through its entrance uncountable times, I always referred to it as the Columbia hospital. The word Memorial felt so final to me when this area was full of nothing but children.
I know that white is a wondrous, and pure color, but not in this place. The white floors and walls seemed lifeless, and sterile like the chemical smell of the disinfectant. The only bit of color was a saying in large purple letters on the wall above the desk that read ‘DIVINE THINGS MUST BE LOVED, TO BE KNOWN’.
“Hi Daniel.” It was Liz greeting me. She was wearing scrubs with bright green frogs and blue dragonflies on them. It was her way of trying to bring some happiness to this place. Even I had to smile at the contrast. Liz was in her thirties. Tall and slender, with big green eyes, the color of pale emeralds, and an astonishing smile. It was contagious because everyone around her seemed to always be wearing one. Her light brown hair was always up in a clip of some kind, something bright and cheery, which would match her scrubs.
“Timmy has been asking for you.”
“I was running errands again, and I was told not to come back without paper and crayons.” I held up the bag from City Art supplies.
I didn’t have to ask how Timmy was doing, I knew. I always knew.
“I’ll walk with you to his room, I need to check on his medication.” Liz put a bright pink Post-it note next to her wristwatch.
Timmy’s room was at the end of the hall. His door was open with the curtain pulled back. The room was full of all the pictures he had drawn during his stay. Pictures full of so much life and color. They were of different places, places Timmy would make up in his mind. His imagination seemed to be endless. Timmy had stories from living under the sea to dragons. He had stories of what it would be like to live on other planets, even down to the strange colors things would be. I would write the stories on the back of all of his pictures, word for word, as Timmy would tell them to me. Because sometimes Timmy would check, just to make sure. Now, I couldn’t help but think of some of his amazing stories.
Timmy looked so tiny and frail in his hospital bed, which seemed to be five times his size. Timmy was eight, the oldest of three children. He had been put aside like some old clothing outgrown or out of style. His parents were addicted to drugs and were so consumed with them selves that they forgot they had children at all. That’s what drugs do to families. By the time the children were taken out of the house and put into a foster home, Timmy was already very sick. For the past six months this place had been his home. How sad to think of this as a home. And I had been here at Timmy’s side from the beginning, helping as much as I could.
Timmy looked like an angel. His short little blond curls were just beginning to grow back. And those beautiful blue-green eyes, you could see his soul in them, a wise soul. Not the soul of a child. I could tell that Timmy knew what the cancer was doing to his tiny little body. Liz was busy writing down all the information from the machines in Timmy’s room on her pink Post-it note.
Liz loved children. She didn’t have a family of her own, but wanted one. It was hard for her, knowing that most of the children here she could not save. Liz spent half her shift at the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit and half at the Emergency Room, where sometimes all it took to mend a broken heart, was a Band-Aid. How I wished it would work for all her patients.
“You`re late.” I heard, as I stood looking into a set of blue-green eyes, the color of the sea in the summer's last light. A light that was slowly fading away along with his life.
He was so weak his voice was just above a whisper.
“Errand boy, remember?” as I pointed to myself. I heard Liz snicker as she left Timmy’s room. “And yes I did get everything you wanted.” I told him as I sat in the chair next to his bed. It was quiet for a long while before Timmy spoke.
“I am scared Daniel”
“I know Timmy, but it will be okay, there is nothing to be frightened of.” I held his little hand in both of mine. It was so tiny.
“Will you remember me?” I felt shocked at the idea. I would always remember the children.
“Timmy I will never forget you.” Children always seemed to have a different way of seeing the world than adults do.
With a little smile on his face he said, “I know, I’m just afraid of leaving you alone. Who will take care of you when I’m gone? You don’t have a mommy or daddy to take care of you.”
“Don’t worry Timmy, I have a wonderful father.”
“Is he nice”? His voice almost lost in the quiet.
“Yes Timmy, he’s very nice.”
“Daniel I’m tired and it’s cold.” His voice seemed hardly a whisper.
I knew Timmy would sleep with angels soon, and I would be there for him, as long as he needed! Even after all this time the loss of a child was still hard for me to understand.
I noted that Liz had turned off the sound on the machines, so Timmy couldn’t hear it. I wrapped him up in another blanket, being careful of his wires and tubes. Then I held him while I sat in the large rocking chair. As I rocked Timmy, the movement back and forth seemed to help his pain.
“Daniel, I love you,” his small voice whispered.
“And I love you Timmy.” How could you not love a child like this?
I could hear Liz, humming to a restless child in the next room. Liz hummed a beautiful lullaby, one her mother had taught her as a child. She sang it to all of the children. Liz said once, that when she sang the lullaby, she felt the presence of her mother watching over her. I found myself rocking Timmy, in rhythm to Liz's lullaby. One verse in Liz’s lullaby, ‘may there always be Angels to watch over you,’ was for all of the children. As I touched Timmy's forehead he seemed a little chilled. I grabbed the blanket off the back of the rocker and wrapped it around him. Timmy looked up at me, with those blue-green eyes, and I knew angels were watching over him.