Postmaster, Please Deliver!

Dear Postmaster,

I know you have a way of getting letters to people even though the address might be incomplete. Take for example all the letters you have to deliverer to Santa and the only information on the envelope is his name and the North Pole. I’m sure you find him because every year he manages to delight boys and girls all over the world on Christmas day with the toys they asked him for, so I’m hoping you’ll do me a big favor and find someone special for me.

Her name is Sierra (sorry I don’t know her last name). She is six years old and she lives on Hammond Boulevard in Clovis, New Mexico, Oh, and she likes the color, pink. That’s about all I have for you to go on but It would mean a lot if you could find her. You see, she is a very special little girl and I need to tell her that.

For six days in June of 2009, in a hospital in Las Vegas she was my friend. She gave me hugs and held my hand and made me smile when all I wanted to do was cry. She colored me pictures and asked a lot of questions and told me all about herself, except for how to find her.

We met in the Intensive Care Waiting Room. She was there because her grandmother was in the ICU and she and her older sister would hang out there while her mother stayed by her grandmother’s side. I’m sure she was sad and scared. It was a sad, scary room. People cried a lot. Some got news that changed their lives forever and a few left that room after saying good bye to someone they loved. I hated that room until I met Sierra.

After Dave received the diagnosis of cancer from the doctors, I immediately declared his room a “No Cry Zone”. I didn’t want him to think we were scared or without hope. For several days, the doctors would only allow me in his room and this declaration on my part proved tough to follow. When I felt the tears creeping to the surface, I would quietly leave his room and find my way to the waiting room where family and friends had gathered. Together we would cry on each other’s shoulders until I could get a grip, wipe my nose and return to his room.

On one of these occasions, as the tears were flowing freely, I felt someone grab my hand. I looked into the big brown eyes of a small girl and heard her ask, “Why are you so sad?” I tried to explain that someone I loved was very sick and that made me sad and that’s when she told me about her grandma having an operation on her heart but that she knew she was going to get better.

From that time on, Sierra and I bonded. Every time I entered that room I was greeted by a big hug from her and she would proceed to plant herself next to me. This sometimes bothered family members who were anxious to hear news about Dave’s conditions, but Sierra was not deterred. She would rub my hands and I would tell her how nice that felt and she would tell me that she wanted to be a hand massager one day. She would show me the pictures she had made or tell me about the game she and her sister had played or sometimes she would tell me that her sister was mean to her because she didn’t want to play anymore. But Sierra always made me smile, even when I couldn’t imagine ever smiling again. This six-year old child with a heart as big as all of Las Vegas made my heart happy for those few moments in that awful room.

Then everything got crazy. The doctors made the decision to transport Dave to Salt Lake and it all happened so fast. When Sierra’s mother learned that we were leaving she asked if she could take a picture of the two of us. There we were, frozen in time, friends for life. In my rush to make arrangements and gather my things I didn’t get her address. I never saw the picture. I didn’t get to tell her how much her simple acts of kindness and love got me through those terrible days. I never got to hear about her Grandmother and if her heart got better and I never got to tell her that the person I love is doing great.

So you see Mr. Postmaster, that’s why I have to find her. Friends like that don’t come along very often and I need to send her a letter to tell her all those things and to ask her if her sister is being nice to her and if she is happy and if pink is still her favorite color.

Thanks in advance for your help,

Cheryl