Heaven was full of giggles that morning.

Luna and Rosie were bouncing from cloud to cloud — floating, tumbling, twirling — leaving little trails of “joyings” behind them as if they were painting the air with happiness. Their laughter rang like tiny bells, and even the angels paused to smile as the girls zipped past.

But Gracie wasn’t bouncing. She wasn't giggling or zipping nor zooming. Instead, she was pondering.

She stood at the edge of a soft, glowing cloud, looking down through the bright veil of heaven. Below, she could see Pawpaw — older now, but still with that same gentle light in his eyes. And she wondered, in that quiet way she had:

What was he like as a child?
What made him smile?
What made him brave?
What made him Pawpaw?

This wondering grew and began to tug at her. Softly at first, and then stronger — until she felt herself leaning forward.

Looking down, she began to slip, and she allowed herself to fall, tumbling down through the warm folds of the Heavens.

And she didn’t mean to do it, but her focus caused her to open the layers of time. As she slipped invisibly between them, she began to travel back, back through the years and decades.

Her kind heart was the rudder and her compassion the tiller.

Love has its own way of allowing a little girl cherub to wander where her heart is looking.

Far down below on the earth, Pawpaw lived quietly, holding fast to his faith through days that weren't always kind. In fact, some of those days were downright mean. But so it was.

Suddenly, our little Luna stopped mid-twirl. She felt the absence of Gracie's presence.

“Where’s Gracie?” she asked Rosie, with concern.

Playful Rosie spun around, then upside-down, but she felt it, too. Wherever Gracie was, there she wasn't!

So Rosie zip-zoomed to the Playgrounds of the Lord and back again, as if imitating one of Luna's spontaneous pirouettes.

“She’s not in the Playgrounds of the Lord!”

“Well then,” Luna declared, hands on her hips, “she must be…”
And they both exclaimed at once, “At Pawpaw’s!”

Off they went — two little comets of sparkles and charmings — chasing after their older sister, never dreaming that Gracie was drifting backward through time toward a little boy who would one day become their Pawpaw.

Now, usually Gracie was the one who got “permissions” for them. So it never occurred to our two little cherubs to do anything but go.

But that was all right this time because their self-appointed guardian angel, Pawpaw’s faithful Aunt Bee, was watching over them. She made sure they had the proper permissions.

Meanwhile, Luna could feel the very spot where Gracie had disappeared. She stopped for just a moment.

Sure this was where Gracie had taken off for Pawpaw's place, Luna shot away faster than a spark from an angel's lantern, leaving a trail of silver sparkles — and little Rosie — behind her.

Rosie watched her speed off.

“Goodness Gracie-us, that Gracie!”

Then, doing her very best to imitate Luna, our little flower from Heaven zoomed after her sister with all the love she could muster, leaving a shimmering trail of rose-colored sparkles behind her.

Far away, high in the mountains, two astronomers sat at their telescopes in an Earthly observatory.

“Are you seeing this?”

The other peered into his instrument.

“It looks like… a parade of silvery sparkles…” He paused. “…and roses?”

“That can't be right.”

“Write it down anyway. Might be something wrong with the instruments.”

Meanwhile, Luna and Rosie landed on Pawpaw's porch with a soft whump of heavenly sparks.

They looked for Gracie everywhere — under the porch, behind the rocking chair, inside the old shed, next to a cute little kitty cat full of meows. But nope, she wasn't there. And Rosie even asked a friendly St. Bernard, but like any dog, she wasn't talking. St. Bernadette?

But Gracie was nowhere to be found.

Then they saw Pawpaw.

And, well, that was that.

All thoughts of searching for their older sister vanished as the two wild comets began orbiting Pawpaw, giggling, tugging at his sleeves, bouncing off his knees, and filling the air with all manner of joyings, charmings, and twirlings — besides and again.

So while Gracie was somewhere in time, Luna and Rosie were somewhere in Pawpaw's living room.

And naturally, all three were always in Pawpaw's heart.

Gracie drifted down, tumbling through the yesteryears of Earth until her feet touched the soft dirt of Pawpaw's used-to-be driveway.

She blinked.

This wasn't Pawpaw's house, but somehow, she felt she was in the right place.

“Pawpaw?” she whispered.

But instead of Pawpaw, there stood a little boy — skinny as a beanpole, barefoot, his hair sticking up like he'd been wrestling with the wind.

And he was staring straight at her.
That wasn’t supposed to happen!

Unless she chose otherwise, only the pure in heart, like Pawpaw, could see her.

A bit winded, Gracie caught her breath. Then she gave the boy a polite little nod — the kind Aunt Bee had taught her — and began backing away.

“Sorry, sir. I'm just… passing through.”

She turned to leave. She'd find Pawpaw the usual way — by following his faith.

Pawpaw's faith was like a lantern in the dark. It always led her right to him.

So Gracie closed her eyes, reached out with her heart, and followed the warm, steady glow of Pawpaw's believing.

And it led her…

Right back to the little boy.

Gracie ducked behind a bush, a bit confused.

Why was Pawpaw's faith coming from him?

Then she saw it.

The tilt of his head. The gentle way he touched the leaves. The quiet bravery in his eyes.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“Oh heavens… it's Pawpaw!”

Gracie peeked around the bush at the little boy once more.

She hadn't merely slipped out of Heaven.

Somehow, she'd slipped back in time!

As she watched, little Pawpaw bent down and nibbled at a leaf.

Then a bud.

Then a tiny flower of wood sorrel.

He wasn't playing. He wasn't curious.

He was hungry.
So hungry.

Gracie stared at him. How could a little boy be so skinny? And why was he all alone?

When he lifted the tiny flower to his mouth, Gracie's heart broke, and tears filled her eyes.

She raised her hand, determined to turn that little flower into cake — a big, fluffy slice with frosting and sprinkles and all the joyings and imagining she could muster.

But before she could make a single sprinkle appear, a gentle hand stopped her.

Gracie froze.

Aunt Bee stood beside her, soft as a sigh, warm as a lullaby, her eyes full of knowing.

“My dear little angel,” she said quietly, “some things must happen before the agains can begin.”

Aunt Bee's hand rested lightly on Gracie's arm, warm and steady, carrying that quiet knowing she always seemed to have.

Gracie looked from Aunt Bee to the little boy.

“But he's Pawpaw,” she whispered.

“We must leave things as they are, my dear,” she whispered. “What has already happened belongs to history. Come now, along with me.”

As she spoke, the world folded softly.

The skinny little boy Pawpaw had been, the house, the driveway, the flower — all slipped away like the turning of a page.

Aunt Bee guided Gracie upward, through the folds of time, back toward the present.

There was a light.

The air shimmered and hummed.

And then —

The Long Way Back

Gracie meant to go straight home.

But Heaven has its own roads.

And sometimes… the road home is longer than you might expect.

Gracie opened her eyes and found herself drifting — not falling, not flying — drifting through moments she didn't recognize.

At first, she thought she was lost.

Then she realized:

She was moving through Pawpaw's life.

Not just the happy parts.

The parts no one had ever told her about.

She saw him growing older, but still too young to carry the weight he carried.

She saw him hungry, but hiding it better.

She saw him praying alone.
She saw him working alone.
She saw him hurting alone.

And she saw the miracles — so many of them! Small ones, quiet ones — the kind that keep a person going without anyone else ever noticing.

She saw attacks — not from creatures, but from people.

Words.
Actions.
Absences.

She saw him lose everything.

And then lose some more.

She saw him abandoned for years that felt like deserts.

She saw him lose his physical strength, his health, the people he loved, his life.

All before she ever came along.

Gracie pressed her hands to her mouth.

Her wings curled around her like a shield.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to cry.

She wanted to go back and hold that dear little boy.

But she couldn't touch anything.

She was only passing through.

A witness.
A traveler.
A granddaughter who had stumbled into the truth.

And finally, the long road ended.

They were home in the present.

The room was warm and bright and safe.

Luna and Rosie were busy bouncing and zooming and comet-twirling all around Pawpaw, leaving trails of sparkles and giggles in their wake.

Pawpaw laughed — that deep, gentle laugh Gracie loved — as the two little angels orbited him like joyful planets.

Aunt Bee secretly gave Gracie the slightest nudge and whispered, “Go on, child.”

Gracie stepped forward into the living room.

“There she is!” said Pawpaw.

She walked quietly to Pawpaw's side, climbed up beside him, and wrapped both arms around his right arm.

She didn't tell him what she'd seen.

She didn't tell her sisters.

She didn't tell Aunt Bee.

It was the secret Gracie kept.

Suddenly, she saw Pawpaw differently — not just as her Pawpaw, but as the little boy he once was, the hungry boy, the brave boy, the boy whose pure heart could see her.

Her heart swelled.

She leaned on him, soft as a sigh. And there she stayed, pressed close, while her sisters giggled and danced and zoomed and zipped all around them.

Luna zipped past like a falling star. Rosie twirled after her in a swirl of pink-colored sparkles.

Pawpaw patted Gracie's hand, not knowing why she held him so tightly.

But Gracie knew.
And Aunt Bee knew.
And Heaven knew.

Some secrets are tender. Some secrets are meant to be held safe.

And some secrets are simply love, besides and again.

Luna zipped past in a meteor-loop. Rosie twirled after her in a swirl of rosy streaks.

And then — as if her little heart couldn't hold the joy any longer — Rosie burst into her song, bright as a lantern and soft as a prayer.

Luna joined in, of course — twirling, charming, joying besides and again — and the whole yard seemed to glow a little warmer, as if Heaven itself had leaned down to listen.

Pawpaw chuckled, wiping the corner of his eye.

And Aunt Bee hummed from somewhere just beyond the light.

A warm, colorful light from Pawpaw's house rose toward the heavens, soft as a lullaby and bright as delight.

Gracie held his arm a little tighter.

Luna and Rosie continued to twirl and zoom and comet-dance around him.

And the sunshines came in.

Besides and Again