I’d seen her picture circling the internet. The girl in the blue dress. It was sad to know such a young life was called Home. But it wasn’t until I took on a book project four years after her death that I would meet her.
Writers research and explore.
Believers with the gift of discernment are called to dive deeper. To go into our mind’s eye and see ourselves in the moment. To empathize. To feel another’s heart. To know them. From one heart to another, I looked at the countenance on Natalie’s face. What an angel.
She would make her appearance in chapter nine. I had been writing about the boy who was captivated by the girl in the blue dress after learning she was one of the fallen and how he was inspired to do something. I witnessed lives touched and purpose unfolding.
Tears were shed in the privacy of my lair as I searched the letters on my keyboard. Prayers were whispered for our Father to bring glory through these words.
I tucked the covers around sweet Natalie, loved her, and turned out the light.
She would visit as I worked on formatting and editing and called on chapter nine.
Autumn made a few attempts to end summer activities, and I was already settling into Chapter 22 – the reason why I was compelled to write this inspiring story of a ten-year-old boy honoring heroes.
Chapter 23 would close the many sessions with the boy’s father. Friendships had developed, along with understanding and lending my pen to so many voices. Yet, the last person I would meet merited yet another chapter.
As I listened to another father’s story, he recalled his daughter’s childhood. Natalie skipped gleefully into the room and sat on her Pop’s lap. He told of her character, her caring way, her excitement, and her calling.
Natalie’s smile lit up the room while her father spoke words with nearly five years of healing.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to open his wounds again, but Natalie’s smile was so bright and reassuring as he told the story about that night. He probably told it so many times; perhaps it wouldn’t squeeze his heart so tight.
Tragedy remembers.
Time is persuasive to heal, but tragedy continued to strangle his airway as he spoke. My heart reached through the screened interview and hugged the man I just met. He didn’t know it, but God knew.
My soul left Natalie in her Pop’s lap, and I placed a cover over them, tucking them both in for the night.
The Thanksgiving holiday brought a refreshing breeze. Natalie stood in the doorway of my office.
Today, we went for a walk. We prayed together, talking and sharing our hearts. Then we came to a tall waterfall and stood in its mist until the shadow of the day bid us goodbye. It was a hard cry, and I grieved this woman whom I met in chapter nine.