Langit

I left the apartment at 4 o'clock in the morning. I was in the unit by 4:20 a.m. I glanced at his room knowing that something was amiss. I looked for his chart and it was nowhere to be found. Every morning for the last week or so, I have been afraid that it would be the day. His nurse saw me. She asked me if I already knew. I shook my head. She recounted the events of yesterday. She told me that his body is still there. We went in and there he was, all bundled up, looking very yellow. I didn't think I would cry. We all knew it was coming. By the time he was my patient, he was already fastly deteriorating. I told the nurse that I'll just stay for a little bit to say a prayer. The tears started coming. I know we don't pray for the dead. But I just felt like asking God for grace, for grace that babies go to heaven.

Somebody just asked me the other day if I think that babies go to heaven. I said that I don't know. If they are not in the body of Christ, only God knows of their fate. Only God knows.