Daddy, what happens when we...
Illustration
"Daddy, what happens when we die?" Stephanie was a curious five-year-old girl and had hundreds of questions for her favorite answer man.
"Wow, what a question, Sweetie! I'm not sure. I've never been there to come back and tell about it. Why do you ask?"
"Well," Stephanie said thoughtfully, "do you remember the bird that built its nest in the backyard birch tree?"
"Sure, we thought that the whole family had left when the weather turned colder."
"I think one of them didn't make it." With a sad softness in her voice, she explained. "I discovered some feathers and bones under the tree. I think a cat got it. So, what happens when we die? The bird doesn't have some of its pretty feathers anymore. Will it ever get 'em back?"
The answer man was touched by his daughter's concern. "I don't know. Maybe it doesn't need them anymore. Maybe birds don't even fly in heaven. Maybe God gives them something totally different to do."
"It's hard to imagine a bird not being a bird as we see them," Stephanie said.
"You're right. Do you remember when we went to Niagara Falls this past summer?"
"Yeah, that was so neat. I liked the Maid of the Mist boat ride the best."
"Do you remember the roar of the waterfall? Death is like water tumbling down over the falls. It's wet; you can see it rushing over the edge; you can hear it like thunder. But, once it hits the bottom, there is this mist that rises, a vapor-like steam. This drifts silently upwards. Did you know that mist is the same water? It just has a different form. When we die, we become like that mist, and God in heaven simply takes us up in his hands, and we enter heaven different than we lived on earth, just like the mist is different than the water, yet is the same water."
-- Molldrem
"Wow, what a question, Sweetie! I'm not sure. I've never been there to come back and tell about it. Why do you ask?"
"Well," Stephanie said thoughtfully, "do you remember the bird that built its nest in the backyard birch tree?"
"Sure, we thought that the whole family had left when the weather turned colder."
"I think one of them didn't make it." With a sad softness in her voice, she explained. "I discovered some feathers and bones under the tree. I think a cat got it. So, what happens when we die? The bird doesn't have some of its pretty feathers anymore. Will it ever get 'em back?"
The answer man was touched by his daughter's concern. "I don't know. Maybe it doesn't need them anymore. Maybe birds don't even fly in heaven. Maybe God gives them something totally different to do."
"It's hard to imagine a bird not being a bird as we see them," Stephanie said.
"You're right. Do you remember when we went to Niagara Falls this past summer?"
"Yeah, that was so neat. I liked the Maid of the Mist boat ride the best."
"Do you remember the roar of the waterfall? Death is like water tumbling down over the falls. It's wet; you can see it rushing over the edge; you can hear it like thunder. But, once it hits the bottom, there is this mist that rises, a vapor-like steam. This drifts silently upwards. Did you know that mist is the same water? It just has a different form. When we die, we become like that mist, and God in heaven simply takes us up in his hands, and we enter heaven different than we lived on earth, just like the mist is different than the water, yet is the same water."
-- Molldrem
