April 6, 2025 
by M. Regina Cram
Five-year-old Meggie had been battling leukemia for more than half her young life. The disease went into remission for a while, but when it returned, no treatment could slow its growth. By the time Meggie entered kindergarten, it was clear she was going to lose the battle.
Meggie’s parents tried to prepare themselves for her death, but how can one prepare for the unthinkable? Meggie was such a spitfire. She remained cheerful even when radiation sapped her strength, and chemotherapy snatched her dark curls. She was a favorite at the children’s hospital, serenading fussy babies in her off-key voice until they grinned with their bald heads and toothless smiles.
From her earliest days, Meggie bubbled over with curiosity. Where do fireflies sleep?? Do giants have belly buttons? Why doesn’t Big Bird live with a grown-up? Can bad guys do math? Why do we have toes?
As Meggie grew sicker, her questions focused increasingly on death, and yet she didn’t speak in the frightened hush tones used by adults. Meggie was as matter-of-fact about death as she was about frogs and belly buttons and ice cream cones. What would happen to her body after she died? Would Santa know where to find her? Would her parents give her toys to another little girl? Could she bring her teddy bear with her to heaven? Does Jesus have a teddy bear?
Meggie’s parents were able to answer most questions, but they dreaded the day when Meggie asked about the process of dying. The truth was, they had no idea. How could they explain something they didn’t understand?
Sure enough, the day arrived. “Mama, what is it like to die?” Meggie asked sweetly. “Will it hurt? Will I be scared? Will you be with me?” Meggie’s innocence pierced her mother’s heart, yet she knew what to say at that precise moment.
“You know how sometimes you get scared in the middle of the night?” her mother began. “When that happens, you run across the hall to our room and climb into bed with Daddy and me, right?”
Meggie nodded her head, her dark eyes capturing every word.
“When you wake up the next morning, where are you?” her mother continued.
Meggie had never thought of that. “I’m back in my own bed!” she said in surprise.
“That’s right,” her mother explained. “That’s because, while you’re asleep, your Daddy picks you up in his big, strong arms and carries you back to your bed where you belong.
“That’s what it’s like to die. We’re on Earth for only a while. Then, when the time is right, our heavenly Father picks us up in His big, strong arms and carries us home to heaven, which is where we really belong.”
“Oh,” said Meggie with a contented sigh. “That’s not scary.”
And so it was that, a few weeks later, Meggie quietly slipped into a coma. The following night, her heavenly Father picked her up in His big, strong arms and gently carried her home to where she really belonged.
M. Regina Cram is a published author and parishioner of SS. Isidore and Maria Parish.
