*~*Cool and Empowering Stories*~*

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Hi, and welcome to this part of my website, which is 
*NEW* and also happens to be my favourite!!!
so enjoy! 



   Danny and I spent the hot Louisiana summer together at church camp where we worked as counselors when we were both nineteen.  He was kind and gentle.  We made plans for our future as young people often do.  He was going to be a doctor, and I, a nurse.  It all fit together so nicely.  I was going to transfer to the college he attented at the end of the fall semester.  We had it all figured out-or so I thought.
   During the last week of camp, he began to count down the hours to a surprise he had in store for me that weekend.  "Only fifty hours!" This would be our first official date after working together all summer.  We hopped in his car, and we started the evening by going out to eat.  We left the restaurant just as the sun was beginning to set.
   When we got back in his car, he didn't want me to see where we were going.  Danny informed me he'd have to blindfold me before we could go any farther.  Laughing, we could only imaging what it looked like for anyone driving by! We drove for a long while before he stopped his truck.  He gave me his hand, and we stepped out into the night air.  He led me through a black forest, illuminated only by the light of the moon.  Sitting beside me on the ground, he said a quick prayer asking God to let this be the most perfect night that either of us would ever experience.
   As I opened my eyes, the scene before me was breathtaking.  Danny had brought me to the prayer garden.  It was a sacred and special place at camp surrounded by water, ferns, flowers, and trees.  We sat close together beside the lake under a full moon as the light from our small campfire expelled a soft light on the six-foot cross positioned in front of us across the water.
   We held each other close, spoke in hushed voices, and cried from sheer reverence as we asked that God's will be done in our lives. We talked and dreamed for hours.  At the end of the evening, we gazed up through the small clearing of pines into the beautiful night sky, and a meteor sailed by-as though God was running his finger, like a signature, across out little piece of heaven.  It was the perfect ending to a perfect night.
   My parents had invited Danny to stay with us that last night before he returned home for school.  Morning came, and we both dreaded saying goodbye. I began to cry and he hugged me tight, saying, "I don't want you to hurt." But i was.  My heart was breaking.  "I wish I didn't have to go." Danny whispered.  I wished he didn't either.
   He stood in my front yard and his eyes-dark, mysterious, penetrating-shone brightly, yet i saw in them a strange sadness.  His hair glistened as golden strands illuminated the light that seemed to encircle his head.  I remember his hands-soft, clean, uncallused, with long, this fingers.  Danny looked at me in a way he had never looked before and then whispered, "Shelly, I'm really going to miss you. Please don't ever forget me."
   Never smiling, he grabbed my hands and asked me to pray for him to make it home safely.  With that, he gave me a last kiss, put on his helmet, climbed on his motorcycle, and rode away.  I watched as he drove out of my sight and out of my life, never to return again.
   Feeling confused at his peculiar goodbye, I went back into the house with a heavy heart. On the table lay a note Danny had written for me to discover after he'd gone. It read, "Pray for us" and referred me to a bible verse: TRUST IN THE LORD WITH ALL YOUR HEART AND LEAN ON YOUR OWN UNDERSTANDING, IN ALL YOUR WAYS ACKNOWLEDGE HIM AND HE SHALL DIRECT YOUR PATHS. That was at 11:00 A.M. In less than an hour, my world collapsed.  Forty-five minutes after leaving my house, Danny was involved in an accident that took his life.
   Life after that held little meaning for me.  My pain was so great and my sorrow unsurpassed.  I became so desperate in my grief that I asked God to let me dream of Danny.  My prayers were frequently answered, and after one of those dreams, it felt like we'd spent time together saying things we needed to say and tying up loose ends.  We even said goodbye in one of those dreams, and over time I slowly began to heal.
   Six years have passed since Danny died.  Not long ago, I was playing outside with my dog well after dark. I looked up toward the heavens, and my mind immediately raced back to the one thing Danny asked me to do, "Shelly, please don't forget me." My heart once again became heavy as I recalled all my despair that echoed Danny's name.  I felt shame, because it had been a while since I'd thought of him.  Loneliness and pain began so swell like waves inside my chest.  I prayed to god to bring me Danny one last time.  I'd forgotten the sound of his voice, the distinct color of his hair, and the kindness in his eyes.
   Less than a week passed, and I once again forgot about Danny and my prayer.  I threw myself back into work and my hurried everyday life.  On Sunday, at church, I sat in the next-to-last pew.  When the service started, I hardly noticed the man who took a seat behind me.  During a song of fellowship, I turned to greet the stranger behind me.  My heart stopped for a moment and I felt a heavenly warmth envelop my body.  He reached and took my had and smiled slowly, as if to say, "It's okay." Then he winked.  His eyes were more beautiful than I remembered.  His hair still had touches of gold.  I felt myself smile as I remembered my prayer from the week before.  He rose from his seat.  I gazed lovingly and in utter amazement as he moved closer to grasp my hand.  Before he sat back down, I saw his hands-beautiful hands-perfect doctor's hands-Danny's hands.
   I fought to hold back my tears.  I couldn't wait to talk with him at the end of the service, but when I turned back toward him, he was gone.  Just as gently and quietly as he appeared, he disappeared. He spoke to no one, and no one had seemed to notice him but me.
   Back at home, I told Mom what happened.  She thought for a moment and then asked, "What is the 
date today?" I had to think for a moment.  "It's the fourteenth," I answered.  My eyes filled with tears-Danny had died on the fourteenth.  He had always come to me in dreams on this date.
   That afternoon, I went to his grave for the last time.  Suddenly, his epitaph had even more significance: AN ANGEL IN DISGUISE.


         *~*~*~Shelly Clark~*~*~*
Exerpt from "Chocolate for Teen's Soul
             -Kay Allenbaugh