heavenly princess

In your life you meet people. Some  you never think about again. Some you wonder what happened to them. There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do /// C.S. Lewis

The story I'm telling you revolves a lot around this quote. God puts people in our lives for different reasons. I believe that, sometimes, those you've known for only a short time become an instant part of your heart. This story is like that.

~*~

June of my eighteenth year, I had no plan in life. Highschool was done, but college wasn't a part of my current plan. So I did what any other kid with no life does: I got a job. I was a secret dork, so a bookstore seemed like the perfect place to go. Plus, I knew I wouldn't see my usual crowd at a civilized place like that.

My first month on the job, I noticed something rather interesting. Every Monday, at 2:10 pm, a girl would enter the store with her mom. And when I say 2:10, I mean exactly on the dot. This girl was never late by more than a few seconds. From my station at the checkout counter, I would see her come in, inhale deeply, then head straight for the children's section. Her mom would browse the self-help sections for twenty minutes {once again, an exact calculation} until the girl reappeared at her side. They never bought anything; just walked back out the door. The third time this happened, I caught a smile from the girl. For some reason, this gesture from someone half my age made my day.

It was July before I got up the nerve to talk to this girl. That sounds corny, right? A boy, practically an adult, who feels nervous about approaching a nine-year old? But, after all, one can't be creepy when trying to discover more about kids, especially with their moms just a few aisles away.

I made sure to save my shelving in the children's section for Monday at 2:08. Two minutes later, I saw the girl enter, go through her breathing routine, and start in my direction. I tried to appear busy as I watched her take a book from the fantasy section and sit on the floor, back leaning against the bookshelf. She gently opened the cover and turned to an exact page, somewhere in the middle. I realized she must have been reading the same book, in small portions, for the past month.

Hoping not to startle her, I cleared my throat. "So, you enjoying that book?" The girl looked up at me and grinned.

"I told Mommy you'd figure me out," she said, grinning. I moved a bit closer. Her eyes were soft blue, and her blond hair fell only to her shoulders. She wore a baseball cap with JESUS written in bold letters. Her appearance was like any other little girl's, including the book of fairy tales in her lap. I craned my neck to see her place. "Ah, The Princess and the Pea. I can't say that was one of my favorites."

The girl laughed. "That's probably because you're a boy! Boys always seem to like the stories about sword fights and pirates." She looked back down at the page. "But I like princesses better, especially secret ones." Her face was serious as she added, "Secret princesses who were once nobodies too."

In hindsight, I can see that it was the Holy Spirit who pushed me to sit beside her and talk about our favorites stories. But at that moment, all I knew was this little girl needed a friendly discussion about why wolves always seemed to get a bad rep. We were both so engrossed that at first we didn't notice her mom standing in front of us. My watch read 2:37 as I jumped up, hoping her mom wouldn't see me as a weirdo.

I only got an arched eyebrow and a cautious smile. Then her gaze turned to her daughter. "Callie, it's time to leave---we're already late."
Callie’s shoulders slumped, but she obeyed. She got to her feet, a bit slowly, and handed her book to me. Will you put this back for me,” she peered at my name tag, “Nathanael?”
I took the book. “You can call me Nate.”
Callie grabbed her mother’s hand. “Thanks, Nate.” Then, over her shoulder: “See you next week!”
And see her I did, ever Monday that summer. Our twenty minute fairy tale sessions was the highlight of my week, as we went through book after book. Talking with Callie, I felt myself opening up and laughing more. I was reminded of how wonderful it is to be young, and have an imagination untarnished by outside distractions.

~*~

One week, Callie came in to the store with a short-sleeved shirt on. Before, she had always been wearing a sweatshirt or jacket. What made me notice were the bruises up and down her small arms. I left her reading a new book about dragons and went to confront her mother. I’m afraid my tone was rather harsh as I asked about the bruises. To my surprise, Callie’s mom made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “You mean, after all these months, she hasn’t told you?”
They stayed that day until 2:45 as Callie’s mom explained it to me: Callie had a bone cancer. Mondays she attended chemotherapy, and the trip to the bookstore was truly the only good thing in her day. I don’t know how I kept from crying as she described the different processes used to test and treat Callie. When she finally stopped talking, there was a lump in my throat, too large for me to reply with words. I simply went back to Callie, still reading about dragons, and hugged her. That was the only way I could express my feelings to my brave little friend.

After that Monday, the weeks slipped by too fast for my liking. Callie stayed away from the topic of her sickness, but we did talk about her love for fairy tales. She told me she enjoyed reading about worlds where cancer didn’t exist, and how she didn’t feel so confused toward God when she read about princesses who always had happy endings.
“Jesus loves me, and I love Jesus…..but sometimes I wish He hadn’t let me have cancer,” she once told me. Her voice wavered. “At least I know I’ll go to Heaven. That’s a good thing, right Nate?” For the first time, I saw tears in her blue eyes. “I’m sure there are loads of princesses in Heaven. Jesus loves princesses, even if they are secret ones.” I felt no shame in holding Callie in my arms as I whispered, “No, Jesus loves all princesses---especially ones named Callie.”

~*~

Mrs. Washton had said Callie’s treatments would continue until September, when they would find out a new diagnosis. And when September 13th rolled around, it was decided that Callie would go to Saint Jude’s Children’s Hospital. Five states and a few hundred dollars worth of plane tickets away, I knew it would be a long while before Callie and I read any more stories together.

On our last Monday, Callie and I read The Princess and the Pea one more time. At 2:28, as she slid the book back on the shelf, I stopped and handed it back to her. “Take it, and read aloud to the other kids at Saint Jude’s.” My voice was hoarse. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”

Our good-bye is a memory so precious to me, I can’t even describe it to you. Just know that when that little girl walked out of my store, a part of my heart went with her.

And so life went on, as I tried to figure out what normal felt like. Eventually, it meant attending the Bible study that met at a local church. Though I couldn’t explain everything to them, the group was encouraging as I came to know the God who had brought a little princess into my life.
Thanksgiving passed, then Christmas, until suddenly Easter was over. My last email from Mrs. Washton was several weeks old, but I didn’t worry. Latest news was Callie’s progression was average, and the doctors might even send her home for the summer. I had stopped working at the bookstore, but I made my co-workers swear to call me if Callie and Mrs. Washton came in.

~*~

I celebrated my birthday with family and a girl from my Bible study, Ava. She was the only person I talked with about Callie, and the only person who knew the entire story. As we got closer, I tried to avoid the attraction I felt toward her. After all, I had enough to worry about, thinking of Callie and wondering about God! The last thing I needed was romance---or so I thought.

We had our first date July 11th, a year and five days since I’d met Callie. I had planned a picnic in the park, then some window-shopping along the downtown strip. I knew we would have to pass the bookstore, and I half-hoped Ava would want to stop. That may have been the moment I fell in love with her: when she touched my arm lightly and murmured, “Show me where you read to her.”
We went inside and I inhaled deeply, as Callie would. I led Ava to the children’s section, but stopped before I reached the fantasy shelves. Ava looked at me curiously, then turned to follow my gaze. A woman sat on the floor, books spread out all around her. Even before she lifted her head, I knew it was Mrs. Washton. I rushed forward to help her up. “Where’s Callie? When did you two fly in? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I could have picked you up at the airport!” The words were flying out of my mouth, yet Mrs. Washton remained silent. It took a tired smile, a tear rolling down her cheek, and a book being pushed in to my hands before I understood.
“Oh, Nate,” she choked. “Callie wouldn‘t let me tell you, though she so wanted to see you.”
I may have stopped breathing, for both Ava and Mrs. Washton put a hand on my shoulders.
“The treatment stopped working about a month ago, but I didn’t have enough money for a plane trip home.” Mrs. Washton shook her head. “Callie took it so well; everyone in the ward was amazed. She told all the nurses, ‘I’ll be in Heaven pretty soon, and Jesus will make me a real princess.’”
That is when I lost it. Memories of talking with Callie about princesses, Heaven, and Jesus came back, sharp and clear. I sank to the floor, eyes fixed on the book in my hands. The Princess and the Pea; the exact copy I had given Callie last fall. Mrs. Washton knelt beside me and opened the front cover. Inside was a picture of Callie, with her beautiful smile and hairless head. Her eyes were exactly as I had remembered them: sparkly and brilliantly blue. Below the image was a handwritten paragraph, one that I have committed to heart.

Dear Nate,
    I wish I could sit with you again, and you could read me more stories. Mommy says we can’t go home, but I guess that’s okay. I think you know Jesus now, so I’ll get to see you in Heaven someday. I’ll make sure He gives you a big crown, and you can be my prince. I’ll help you pick out a nice outfit, one that matches my princess dress. I promise it won’t be pink!
         Bye-bye, Nate. I’m giving you this book back, so you can read it to other little princesses you meet.
        Love,
    Callie

~*~

The funeral was in Tennessee, so I was not able to attend. The day before she left, Mrs. Washton stopped by my home. We sat in the living room, starting at The Princess and the Pea on the coffee table. There was a strained silence, until Mrs. Washton shifted I nher chair.
“Nate, I won’t be returning, after this trip. There’s a job opportunity in Memphis, which means I’d be able to volunteer at Saint. Jude’s.” She pushed the book closer to me. “I may never see you again, so please don’t forget me, and especially don’t forget Callie. She truly loved you, Nathanael.”

~*~

I am telling you this story to prove that, fifteen years later, I have not forgotten. Ava is my queen; our two sons my knights; I even have my own little princess whom I read The Princess and the Pea to--- but Callie will forever be my heavenly princess.