by Virginia Earl
About a month ago, I went to visit my daughter’s old preschool. I don’t know why but although she does not go there anymore, we still stop by every now and then. We have fun reminiscing and visiting with her former teachers and the Director. This visit was different. As we walked inside the building, I saw the Director sitting behind the front desk as she normally does but this time there was a somber feeling all around her…
Nevertheless, the Director immediately greeted us and I noticed that she had the picture of a little boy on her desk. She shared with us that they were collecting gifts for Riley’s Christmas Wish List. Right by her desk there was a big white box filled to the brim with toys and a letter attached to it. I asked her who he was and she said he was the son of a friend of one of the teachers. I kept looking at the picture and could not help but think that somehow I knew this little boy.
So
I asked the Director to pass along a message to the little boy’s mother. For some odd reason I felt the need to talk to the little boy’s mom and as we left the school, my daughter and I talked about completing Riley’s Christmas Wish List. It was as if the remaining item in his wish list had been waiting for us.
A week went by and I called again to find out if my message had been passed along. There was no news yet but I was persistent because something inside of me kept telling me, “You need to talk to the mom. You need to try, even if it does not happen.”
Then, two weeks went by and as I was driving my daughter to school, I called again. The Director answered the phone and said that my message had been passed along but that was not all. “You know the mother”, she said. I broke into silent tears and chills went up my spine. I had no choice but to control myself and to keep my head straight, not to mention my eyes clear, and while I was driving down a busy road with my daughter in the back seat, I asked: “What do you mean I know the mother?”
“When your daughter was a baby you used to go to JC Penney to have her pictures taken and you would always ask for the same photographer. Erika worked at JC Penney and took pictures of your daughter and she is Riley’s mother. Ms. Taneisha knows you and your daughter as well from before,” she said.
So I told her that I would stop by the school on my way home. I don’t know how I made it from one stop to the next. Later that morning, I stopped by and I talked to Ms. Taneisha, one of my daughter’s former teachers, and she shared with me that sure enough she worked at JC Penney with Erika before she started teaching. I was in awe. My daughter went to this preschool for more than three years and the teacher never gave me any indication that she knew me before my daughter started going to this preschool.
I guess it is my fault too because during all those years I had the feeling that I had heard this teacher’s voice somewhere else but I never thought of asking. I do vaguely remember my daughter coming home one day and telling me that Ms. Taneisha had told her that she knew her from JC Penney. I never paid attention to my daughter’s comment. It was probably one of those busy days when my mind was somewhere else.
Strangely enough, Riley helped me put the puzzle together. The day I read the letter his mother attached to the big white box filled with toys and I looked at his picture and stepped back as those big dark eyes stared at me from a hospital bed, I knew there was some connection somewhere…
In this letter she thanked all the parents who had participated in helping Riley’s wishes become true; she said she was hoping all the toys would help distract him from his daily reality and that the doctors had done everything they could and were giving him two months to live. I cannot imagine what she must have felt as she wrote that letter sharing her dying son’s story. A resigned mother, letting go gracefully and with no other choice but to let nature take its course, thanked everyone for endless prayers and support.
I will never forget the day I read the letter. All I could think of was Riley and Erika. I walked out of the preschool feeling sad and with a knot in my throat as I had to explain to my daughter that Riley’s time was up and he was going to die soon.
Erika was my daughter’s first professional photographer and I felt the need to help fulfill Riley’s Last Christmas Wish List. So we went shopping the next day and filled a Santa bag with gifts for Riley.
There are photographs in almost every room in my house that Erika took of my daughter and although I did not get a chance to talk to her before Riley passed away or even to meet Riley, I know in my heart that I did everything that I could. That odd feeling that haunted me for weeks... that I had some sort of connection with Riley... was not so strange after all. There was a reason for it.
I do not know whether I will ever have the chance to talk to Erika again. Life is very strange and we never know how others’ lives will touch ours. Maybe, there was a reason why God sent us to the preschool that day… and maybe it was not so much about my message to Erika but maybe Riley had a message to pass along to me and to all of us…
On New Year's Eve, I crawled into bed and silently cried myself to sleep thinking about Erika and Riley and that little smile, those little hands and those little feet that I will never meet and of a young mother who was filled with hopes and dreams.
If only with the touch of a fairytale wand I could wash away the illness that invaded your little body and change your destiny... How I wish that I could have done something to make it all better and change the ending but I cannot. It is not my call. Someone higher above is calling you for a reason...
Treasure those little moments with your children for they are few and never enough… hug them several times every day, tell them you love them, don’t let one day pass without listening to their little tender voices as they share their little stories… for their little voices, their little hands, their little feet and their cute little faces are priceless treasures, larger than life, that leave an everlasting print in our hearts for they will only pass through our lives once and so did this little boy. Riley passed away on December 27.
For Riley and Erika
