The Little Boy’s Idea Of Heaven

“Will there be dragons?” The child asked, his face full of anticipation and dread as he gripped Mīkāl’s calloused hand. The little boy’s idea of Heaven contained a mixture of awesome and fearful creatures living amongst long-dead relatives he’d never known.

“If there are, they would protect us from all the bad things. All the things that hurt us on Earth.” The child’s eyes welled with tears. “The monsters on Earth can’t get into Heaven, right?”

Mīkāl squeezed the little hand. “Angels guard the gates.”

The child’s face scrunched in thought. Then he looked over his shoulder, eyes wide, and his steps faltered. “But dragons would be good, too.”

Mīkāl hoisted the boy into his arms. “No monsters are allowed inside.”

The boy kept watch over the angel’s shoulder and snuggled as Mīkāl carried him through the dark. Guessing source of his sorrow, Mīkāl said, “Your parents will follow soon. Time is gentler on the other side.”

“It’s just if no monsters are allowed--” The boy took a shuddering breath, “And some really good people have monsters inside, do they have to stay on the outside looking in, and you can never get to them, and they can never get to you, and it’s forever?”

Mīkāl reflected on the heartbreaking scene from which he had delivered the boy. The angel pressed the boy’s tear-streaked cheek against his shoulder and whispered, “They get to come in, too, but their monsters have to stay outside. That’s what the dragons are for.”