What Little Sisters Are For

Gracie Gets Lost?

Luna, Gracie, Rosie

Meanwhile, far above the clouds, past the galaxies, beyond the furthest heavens, Gracie gazed down at the very highest star.

Her sisters were romping and tumbling nearby, laughing and vocabulizing all sorts of invented words, filling the air with wonders and what-nots. Surprises drifted toward her like precious, glowing will‑bes — arriving one after another, eager to be discovered.

But Gracie stood up, pinched her nose, and tumbled right over the Edge of Forever.

She does it exactly like that.

Now don’t you worry — her faith is beautiful, her wings cherubic, and her grace much more than a lot. Even so, tumbling in such a fashion, it would be quite a while before she drifted past the highest star.

So she closed her eyes, puffed her cheeks, and thanked Jesus for her flyfulness, which is the very special kind of thankfulness a cherub can have.

And suddenly, like a playful streak of light, she shot from the highest heavens in a great sweeping arc — from east to west, and maybe even to the other west — spiraling down, down, down through all the celestial kingdoms (the one folks keep trying to name and make sense of).

She did not stop, nor offer a polite “howdy‑do,” but went straight on through, as angels frequently do.

Now Gracie loved her little sisters — and every last bit of them down to the halo, feather, and giggle.

But being the oldest, sometimes she’d rather not have two little tagalongs, no matter how well-meaning...and cute...and adorable...and even with much charmings, tumbling after her like a couple of happy fireflies.

Recently, no matter where she went in heaven or on earth — even over shy rainbows, under the iridescent clouds, or through the majesty of the stars — there they were, attached like a snuggle that couldn’t get enough hugs.

She didn’t mind, not really. But sometimes a cherub needs a little time on her own.

Now it was around the second-to-the-last nebula that Gracie realized she didn’t have a mission, a purpose, a point, or even a whereabouts.

Goodness graciousness, Gracie.

She paused for a moment—and that’s when it dawned on her: as far as lost goes, she was there. Now that's a predicament.

Now Gracie had never been lost before, so she wasn’t entirely sure that she was "where?" And that, dear reader, is when the trouble showed its demeanor.

She knew this much surely: she’d rather be where she knew she was than be where she always wasn't.

And that's how you know that you are lost, when your “here” is an unwanted surprise. Like a blueberry or a hydrangea bush that turned out to be an ambush.

One would think that a little lost angel in the middle of the universe would surely cry… or pout… or zoom about.

But Gracie knew something entirely true. She could get from there to here and here to wherever just as fast and maybe even before.

So all she had to do was go from lost to found, and make sure that found was here and no longer there.

Off she was like a shot toward "found" and "here." But when she got there, she was… still lost. And she had to wonder if lost was just another there.

So off like a comet she went again, streaking through the abyss and the vacuums, through star nurseries, past the novas, the supernovas, and the superduper novas — even the quaint little micronovas.

Now Gracie did not pout, she did not cry, but she did tell a little moon goodbye. And just as she was about to "now what to do?" she heard the sound of familiar giggles.

And with a couple of sparkle-pops, Luna grabbed one leg and Rosie the other.

Luna: “We found you!”

Rosie: “And I found your leg!”

Luna: “And I the other!”

Rosie: “Sorry, we losts you.”

Luna: “Goodnesses and graciouses, Gracie! You were going so fast that when we got there, there you weren't! We could hardly keep up or down!”

Rosie: “And I never go so fastest of all my days!”

What a relief! She was no longer lost, but found.

Gracie tried not to cry: “Well then… you both found me, so that’s okay. Now back home to end the day.”

So Luna took Gracie’s right hand and Rosie the left, and they pulled Gracie home like a couple of little sisters would.

Luna: “Whew, for a moment there, I thought we found where Gracie was not again.”

Rosie: “Me too!”

Gracie: “And for a moment there, I almost forgot that little sisters are gifts of precious thoughts wrapped up in doings and muchings and nothing less.”

And that was when Gracie understood why Jesus made little sisters. To give the word “dear” its redundance, profundance, and significance.

And wouldn’t you know?