Chapter 1

Relaxing on the Old Green Park Bench

It was a cool autumn night when I was lying on the old wooden park bench watching the dark gray clouds roll by. The brisk west wind was driving the clouds towards the Atlantic, periodically blocking the diminishing light of the full moon directly above me. As I turn my head to get a view of the seven story hospital which stood on the opposite side of Park Avenue about 300 yards away, I could see a fine mist illuminated by the corner street light. I wasn't very concerned about getting wet because I was wearing my new blue waterproof jacket that was given to me by an old lady-friend of mine named Alicia. I was also wearing my pair of thick blue jeans with my military boots that kept my feet nice and dry. My green and brown camouflaged hat with a wide brim, I wore to protect my head and face from the cold raindrops. I was indeed very lucky to be dressed in such protective attire while having the use of this park bench all to myself. This was my favorite place to sleep. It was tucked away under the shelter of a big oak tree that was bordered in a semi-circle of tall thick bushes that stood directly behind me. Though the leaves from the tree had fallen all around me, I still had the protection of the bench when I lay beneath it. I could even cover myself with the newspaper that I kept tucked away under my jacket. Yes, I was very fortunate to have this place all to myself.

I was not so alone here, either. I had the company of the patients that lay in their hospital beds. I could feel their presence from the light coming from the windows of their rooms. I could imagine their loneliness from being away from their family and friends, which made me feel somehow connected to them. Though the atmosphere could be very peaceful and serene at times, it was often disturbed by the sound of ambulances making their way to the circular driveway in front of the large emergency room doors. I often welcomed the change and enjoyed watching the busy drivers and hospital staff working quickly and professionally to meet the needs of the traumatized patients. These scenes would remind me that I was not exempt from the violent acts of human predators. I too was vulnerable to the inhumane acts of drug addicts, alcoholics, muggers, and the like who were unfortunate enough to grow up in the hellish side of our modern society. I was by no means blind to the fact that I could have been mugged at any given moment; consequently, I also carried with me a hunting knife that I found in a parking lot behind an old torn down nightclub. I kept it concealed in my right boot. I had used it to ward off the kind of people previously mentioned and also to hold on to my claimed piece of territory such as this park bench that I had enjoyed for months. I thanked God that I have never had to injure anyone in order to keep what was mine. I had learned to sleep with one eye open and to use nature as protection. The crisp fallen leaves that surrounded me served as an alarm for intruders, except for rainy nights as was this night.

These distracting thoughts would gradually leave my head and I would go back to analyzing the ways of human society that had
constantly filled my brain for as long as I could remember. I would often
find myself crying when I would think of all the unfortunate children who
were destined for the unhealthy environments of the inner cities of America.
I have always looked at these places as "Hell on Earth." My lady friend,
Alicia, was a victim of such an environment. She recently died from the
hands of a drug addict trying to satisfy his sexual hunger. Alicia had been
a prostitute for 3 years and her mother was a crack addict whose life was
also claimed by drugs. Alicia was a bright girl who promised me that she
would leave the inner city, but could never break away from her inherited
life style. Who is to blame for all of this sickness? Is it Alicia or is
it her mother, or is it her mother's mother? Somewhere the chain of inherited
destruction has to be broken, but the chances for a child of the streets
to become a descent human being who can become a positive influence to society
are minute. I've often wondered how people who are so wealthy can see the
problems of our society and turn their heads when they have the resources
to make a positive change. Maybe that is why God tells us that "It is easier
for a camel to walk through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter
the gates of Heaven."Here I go again-getting lost in analyzing the
behavior of people in our society".

Chapter 2

The Brief Resurrection

With this last thought I began to drift away- staring at the moon. The
sky has cleared somewhat and the light drizzle has all but subsided. The
lights in the hospital windows have all gone out except for a few. I whispered
"good night" to my lonely bed-ridden brothers and sisters at the hospital
and prayed for the children of the streets. I placed my hat on my face enough
to block the tiny raindrops that had fallen from the limbs above me. The
soft pitter-patter of the drops on my hat began to lull me asleep--deeper
and deeper-When suddenly- without warning-
the bushes behind me rustled violently! I heard a loud voice shouting!

"Mutha Fucka!"

I instinctively reached for my knife and felt the curved
handle! I grasped the knife's handle and cleared it from my boot! My right
arm raised the knife while my left hand brushed off my hat! Every movement
that I made seemed to have been going in super slow motion as if viewing
a film one frame at a time! My heart felt as though it was pounding out
of my chest! I raised my head above the back of the bench to look in the
direction of the bushes! Right at that time, I felt a violent blow to my
forehead! At that same exact time, I heard the loud sickening sound of my
own skull cracking! I saw nothing but total darkness. I felt my ears humming
with the deafening sound of a freight train. My whole body went numb. The
force of the blow had knocked me off the bench. I felt the cold dampness
of the leaves that lay beneath my hands. I felt the warm blood running down
my face. I realized that I was dying with the last breath that I coughed
up from my emptied and lifeless lungs.

The meaningless life of a forty-
year-old drifter-nay, "transient," had come to an abrupt end. Yet another
unfeeling inhabitant of the inner-city ghettos had heartlessly snuffed out
another human life, insignificant to the vast majority. Yes, my head lay
there in a pool of blood with the light gray matter of my brain visible
through the wide-opened crack of my forehead and my eyes also still wide
open with fright.

"How can all of this be so?" you may ask. "How can you
write in the past tense about your own death!?"

You see; death is a fact
of life- and life is a fact of death... I could vividly see the
whole crime scene as my soul and spirit began to separate from the earthly
body that had previously enclosed it. My eyes were no longer the windows
to my soul for my soul was set free from the confines of my own body.

As I began to rise, I no longer felt the cool dampness of the heavy night
air. There seemed to be no resistance at all. From my perspective, I could
see the two muggers stripping my body of every piece of clothing that I
wore being careful enough not to keep my well-cared-for blue jacket from
touching the blood-soaked leaves. The aggressor, a well-built black man,
even pried open my mouth with the opposite end of the heavy tree branch
which he had used as the weapon, in order to get a good view of my rear
molars with his cigarette lighter. As they turned to run in the same direction
they had entered, I could see the familiar face of an old acquaintance.
His companions nicknamed him, Flea. He was a small, skinny guy who was always
hyper and suffered from severe paranoia. I had just shared a cigarette with
him and gave him a buck at the shelter a couple of days ago.

This whole
murderous deed must have taken place in a matter of minutes, though at the
time, it seemed much longer. As I continued to rise, I could see the dark
flat roof of the hospital with a helicopter-landing pad on the farthest
corner. As I looked up to view the direction in which this gentle and nurturing
force was taking me; I could see a small hole in the dark gray clouds slowly
enlarging. Out of this opening, shown downward the most intense, white,
laser-like light I had ever seen. The light concentrated all of its force
onto my soul, illuminating my new spiritual body that I was not even aware
had existed. As I looked at myself, I could see my whole body covered with
a flowing translucent gown. I too was as translucent as the gown. My spiritual
figure seemed to absorb all of the light and glowed with the brilliance
of a thousand candles against the dark gray sky. As I rose into to the clouds,
the hole closed as to engulf me from the worldly turbulence that existed
below.

I felt a love and security that I had never experienced before.
Maybe a newborn baby in the arms of his mother could feel a bit of what
I was feeling at that moment. I have never before felt the total confidence
and peacefulness that filled my soul then. Everything around me was like
something out of a dream that was impossible to imagine. Yes, there were
streets of gold, but also huge diamonds housed the streetlights. All of
the 1 and 2-story buildings and houses looked like those in a small Swiss
town, except they were all constructed perfectly. The sidewalks were made
of large pearls that were mortared together with white platinum. The streets
of gold lead out of the city to the rolling hills of golden wheat on one
side and emerald green pastures that were speckled with ruby red flowers
on the other. The endless winding golden road continued on into the horizon
of the beautiful forests with the background of sparkling gem stone mountains.
The atmosphere was perfectly clean filled with bright blue skies and fluffy
white clouds. There were no hints of grays or blacks anywhere in sight.

"I get to stay here forever!" I exclaimed with total excitement.
"Wait just a minute", I said to myself in a puzzling voice,

"Where is everybody?" I hollered.

The sound of my voice traveled forever
over the rolling hills, through the forests, and over the mountains, but
there was no one there to answer me. It had just occurred to me that I was
there alone. There were no people, no angels, no cows or horses.

"You mean I was the only soul that made it to Heaven!?" I thought to myself. Just
then I heard the roaring sound of thunder!

"Joseph!" a loud, echoing, authoritative voice filled the endless heavens around me.

"You must go back to your world. No harm can come to you anymore. You will again experience
all of the worldly tribulations as before, but no one will see or hear you.
Your soul has been purified and you have gained the right to live with Me
for eternity, but you must go with the many other wandering souls that inhabit
the world. They too will reside with Me when "that" time comes. You will
be able to communicate with me through prayer as before, but you will feel
My presence stronger then ever. Your faith has saved you. You must go now."

Before I could reply with any kind of praise-filled response to Him, His
voice along with His presence simply vanished. The streets of gold along
with all of the other beautiful scenery had disappeared. Everything had
all faded away. All that had happened to me up to this point had started
to go in absolute reversal. Sadly, those beautiful feelings, which I had
experienced in Heaven, remained there, also. It was just like watching a
motion picture in reverse. As I slowly descended, the same hole opened again,
but this time to let in the darkness of the world below. The scenery was
just bland and dull compared to what I have just experienced. I felt I was
like a balloon filled with total gratification that slowly began to deflate.
There, below me, was that same old hospital (but this time getting closer
instead of farther away). As I dropped to the level of the roof, I could
see two lone figures running off in the distance.

"It can't be the muggers,"
I thought-but it was indeed.

I came to the realization that no time had elapsed since the time of my
murder. As I was dropping closer and closer to that old park bench, I could
see lying in front of it, the gross and lifeless corpse that I once lived
in, completely naked. Right after my reluctant soul re-entered the body,
I immediately jumped out and sat on the old bench. I sat there for a long
while, avoiding the sickening sight that lay in front of me. I was still
entirely over-wrought with all that had just happened- in just a matter
of seconds! I had to come to the realization that from this point on I would
have no communication with anyone until "that" time comes.

Chapter 3

An Unfortunate Discovery

As I continued to think about that unbelievable evening, I began to realize
all of the advantages of being invisible. Plans started to materialize.
I can be close to people without them knowing I'm there. That is really
the way I preferred it before anyway. I enjoyed feeling the presence of
others without them feeling my own presence. I was almost happy to be alone
before. Now I could go on analyzing society with a much closer perspective.
Instead of viewing others from a distance, I could be only inches away.
I could go anywhere at anytime. I could now see the world as it really was
by being up close and personal. Matter of fact, I had decided to sit right
here and find out how long it would take for some unfortunate person to
discover my body.

By that time, dawn began to arrive and from prior experience,
I knew that joggers and their dogs would be coming down the path soon, but
this time I didn't feel that I had to leave or "hide" elsewhere. There would
be no more disgusted facial expressions from passers by. There would be
no more scoffing from thoughtless children. I no longer had to feel self-conscious
about what or who I was. People never took the time to get to know me during
my whole life. Prejudices seemed to always fill their minds, first.

As I sat there thinking, I could here the familiar barking of a large dog coming
from the wooded area of the park. I knew it wouldn't be long now. I sat
there waiting. Closer and closer came the sound until I could here the prodding
of shoes on the worn-down dirt path. It was that old St. Bernard again followed
by the young lady in the pink jogging suit. I was hoping it would be a man,
instead. It would break my heart to see that poor woman shriek. As she ran
down the path on the other side of the bushes I could here the dog brushing
against the bush directly behind me. The young lady had now passed me by
without a slightest hint of anything wrong. I could see her in clear view
as she ran on by with the dog right next to her. But suddenly the dog stopped
and made a U-turn directly towards me. He must have picked up the scent
of the blood that was now drying with a sticky residue all over the leaves.
The dog was sniffing all over my body and began barking uncontrollably.

"Sergeant, get over here, now! She yelled, impatiently.

"What is the matter with you?" she asked in a confused, but unsuspecting
voice as she drew nearer to the crime scene.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

That
petite young lady let out a scream that could literally had shattered my
eardrums if I were still alive! All the nearby joggers came to investigate
and it wasn't long before a crowd of ten or more surrounded the scene. After
all of this, I felt I had seen enough, so I casually got up from the bench
and headed towards the hospital. As I slowly walked by I could here voices
from the crowd, "isn't he that bum with the big hat who hangs around here?"asked
a jogger.

"I don't know, its kinda hard to tell with his head bashed in like that," answered another.

"He seemed to be such a nice man. Who would want to do such a thing?" asked
an elderly lady while holding her hand tightly over her chest.

I remembered that I had once tipped my hat to say, "hello" to her one Sunday
morning on the way to church. Well, I had enough excitement in the past
few hours that would have filled a month's worth.. As I walked closer to
the emergency room, I found an empty spot on the concrete waiting bench
outside the doors. By this time the sirens where blaring once again as the
ambulance and squad cars tore through the grass heading for the crowd of
people surrounding the bench. It was at that time when I decided to get
up and relax on a long, cushioned couch that set right inside the quiet
waiting room and it was there where I planned to sleep.

Chapter 4

The Emergency Room Jitters

As I lay there on the couch from total exhaustion, it wasn't but seconds
before I fell into a very deep slumber. I was fully absorbed in the visions
of my dreams. Not since I was a child, did I dream with such intense realism,
though these dreams were not the dreams of a child, by any means. There
seemed to be a meaning in every vision that flashed in front of me, not
unlike a strobe light casting its intermittent pulses of light on the wall
of a darkened room. I viewed brief snapshots of faces and places in which
I knew had a definite meaning, but the split-second intervals between the
frames kept me from absorbing the whole story. After I awoke, I could only
remember but a few of the hundreds of photographs that sped by. Some faces
showed the expression of jubilance, while others showed that of grief and
pain. Some of the places that I saw were beautiful with well-kept surroundings,
but the others I only knew too well. They were the familiar sites of condemned
apartment buildings and filthy alleys filled with trash and debris. Though
these visions of beauty and joy were contradictory to those of ugliness
and despair, there was a definite relationship between the two. I also knew
that I was in the middle of it all!

As I got up off the couch, there were
people all around waiting for their friends or family members who were being
attended to. I opened the door of the waiting room and looked out the broad
glass windows to see that darkness was here once again. I must have slept
straight through the light of day. I went outside to sit on the concrete
bench to view the darkened area of the park where I spent many of the evenings.
From this particular location, I could see that I was discretely concealed
from the vision of others who have sat here at night. The bench was not
even slightly viewable. Even the illumination of the corner streetlight
lacked the power to brighten my little hide-a-way. It was nicely tucked
away under the huge oak tree with the well-darkened background of bushes.
While I continued to admire the perfection of my little cove in the park,
I heard the urgent sound of another siren drawing nearer.

This time it
was a white E.M.S. van speeding closer to me through the circular driveway.
It came to a stop with its rear bumper just a few feet in front of me. Just
then the heavy emergency doors of the hospital went flying inward and out
rolled a wheel chair followed by a hustling nurse. The driver of the van
threw open the rear doors and pulled out a stretcher with collapsible legs,
which was followed by another gentleman inside who maneuvered the opposite
end. It was hard to get a good look at the patient until she was transferred
to the wheel chair. She had long black hair matted tightly to her head from
the moisture of perspiration. Her pitted face, wet with perspiration, was
very thin showing a strong definition of her cheekbones. She had all of
the characteristics of a drug user. This was a tiny woman with her abdomen
bulging with a brand new life soon to enter this world.

I began to follow
her into the emergency room, but just then another vehicle came screeching
to an abrupt halt hitting the van's bumper in front of it. It was a black
late model Mercedes with the driver jumping out of the car while shouting
for a nurse. Out rolled another wheelchair with a different nurse pushing
it like before. The frantic driver ran around to swing open the passenger
door. From this car a woman carefully and gingerly got out and gently lowered
herself onto the wheelchair with the assistance of her presumable husband.
This woman seemed to be more worried about her appearance then anything
else. She had the nurse stop while she "freshened up" with the compact she
had concealed in the pocket of her full-length mink coat, before entering
the room. She was a dark-haired woman with a well made up face. Though she
looked to be pregnant, too, there wasn't a hair out of place or a bead of
perspiration anywhere. If she was in labor she showed no hint of it at all.

My mind went immediately back to the first pregnant woman that I had seen.
I ran to catch up with the wheelchair. Down the hall, I spotted a glimpse
of the nurse as the elevator doors began to close. I ran as fast as I could
to get inside, forgetting that I was invisible for a moment. Since the doors
closed before I could reach them, I decided to walk "through" them, using
my newly acquired talent for the first time. There she was- a pitiful sight.
My heart weeped to see this young lady in such agony. She was overcome with
fever. Her hands were trembling while experiencing the agonizing pain of
labor. She must have been in her early twenties though she looked much older
from affects of drug use. I began to pray to God for the lives of them both
as the elevator made its way up to the 6th floor. As God had promised, His
presence filled the close confines of the elevator and I could see a long-awaited
peace fill the eyes of the expecting mother and a gentle smile on the face
of the nurse as the doors began to open.

"What's your name, Honey?" asked the nurse.

"Stephanie", replied the woman, "but my friends just call me Steph." she said in a trembling voice.

"Nice to meet you, Steph. My name is Emily. Everything is going to be just fine. Doctor Jamison will be here shortly, and I hear that he is one of the best pediatricians here. He has delivered a lot of babies in his lifetime, you know. So you needn't worry so much.

"OK," replied Steph with a nervous smile.

I followed them to the labor room, where the nurse helped Stephanie take off her soiled cloths. "How long has it been since your water broke?" asked Emily, as she inserted a thermometer into Stephanie's mouth.

"About a half an hour ago." mumbled Steph.

Stephanie was very under-nourished, with signs of needle marks on various parts of her body. Bruises were even visible around her upper thigh. Just then the labor room door opened forcefully as an elderly doctor walked in. He began to make a hasty examination of the patient. He checked all of her vital signs and removed the thermometer from her mouth. As he examined the thermometer with his left hand, he cupped his right hand slightly and carefully explored her vagina.

"Ah ha-there's its head," he said showing little signs of urgency.

"This is Steph, Doctor," said the nurse while holding Stephanie's hand.

"OK, Steph, let's go deliver this baby." He said with confidence as he smiled and winked at his patient, while helping her back into the wheelchair.

As I looked at Stephanie while she was being helped back into the wheelchair, I again noticed that her anxiety was leveling off, though she was in even more pain then before. The delivery room was right down the hall and I didn't want to miss this for the world. Both the doctor and nurse helped transfer the mother-to-be to the delivery table while murmuring words of encouragement. While they placed her legs gently into the stirrups, I prayed again for them both. I prayed that God would give the baby a real chance at life. The baby needed a good environment and his mother at the same time. I realized that a huge miracle would have to take place right now for that to happen, so I prayed hard and long as the nurse coached the patient with deep rapid breathing.

"Come on Steph, now PUSH." requested the doctor in a firm, but supportive tone of voice.

"Once more now and PUSH." He repeated.

This went on a few more times as the mother became totally drained. The nurse gripped the mother's hand tightly now as the mother bellowed out in pain.

"AHHHH!" she cried out with a deep agonizing sound.

"Come on now, its coming, I can touch its shoulders!" affirmed the doctor with encouragement.

"One last time now PUUUUUSH!"

This time I could see the bloody little infant sliding out of the enlarged vaginal opening while Stephanie was shaking and screaming in shear agony and determination. I was eager to hear that strong healthy cry that everyone else was waiting for; that strong healthy sound of the baby clearing its airway-but we couldn't hear a sound other than the mother gasping to catch her breath. As I looked into the eyes of the doctor, I could see urgent concern. When I looked down at the baby lying lifelessly in his hands, I felt the heart that lived within my soul sink. Suddenly, I backed up and turned around to see the mother. The baby wasn't showing any signs of life whatsoever! It's tiny, pale blue, lifeless arms just hung downward from either side of the doctors hands that looked gigantic in comparison.

"What's wrong with my baby?" cried the frantic mother.

"Why isn't it crying?" again she cried out.

"Nurse help me over here!"

He urgently ordered Emily as he lifted the lifeless infant over to the delivery table. He began pressing firmly on the baby's chest with his two forefingers, then lowering his ear toward the baby's heart. He did this while concealing his actions from the mother by positioning himself between her and the table.

"Oh God! Don't let it die!" she cried out in horror.

"Tilt the head back!" again ordered the doctor as he pinched the tiny nostrils.

He began attempting to breathe life into its tiny lungs in a careful rhythmic motion. The doctor repeated the same movements over and over again. Two minutes had passed by, though it seamed like eternity. The baby was still showing no signs of life. I looked over again at the frantic face of the helpless mother with her fingers interlocked together while pounding her forehead in anguish and mumbling the sounds of prayer beneath her breath. As I looked over to view the blinking eyes of the nurse, which were catching the beads of sweat now dripping from her forehead, I could see signs of hopelessness.

"God, how could you allow this to happen?" I yelled with no one knowing I was there.

The head of the nurse began to lower while the doctor leaned on the table-now with his head lowered, also. I knew then, it was over. In a last attempt to revive the tiny baby, the doctor began flicking the bottom of the baby's feet with his forefinger, to no avail. As he raised his head and turned around to give the mother the horrible news, the baby wiggled one of its toes with a weak hollow whimper.

"OK, let's try it again." said the doctor.

"Oh my God!" yelled out the mother! "Oh dear God, please let him live!"

The mother's facial expressions all changed in an instant. From urgent despair to an overwhelming feeling of hope and joy! As the doctor repeated the same routine, I could again see that the baby was lifeless. Another crucial minute and a half had just gone by. Still the baby lay silent and the mother's positive expressions disappeared as fast as they manifested, replaced by the look of panic and horror. The doctor quickly grabbed the infant's tiny ankles and lifted him up all in one motion and firmly slapped the baby's behind. This time the baby let out a boisterous cry that repeated with every breath the tiny lungs took in. His chest began expanding while gasping for air with every holler as the doctor held him in his arms.

I will remember the look on the mother's face forever. Her exuberant tears flowed endlessly with relief while she continued to praise God. The nurse was holding her hand tightly over her mouth in disbelief and her whole body shook with every burst of tears that where impossible to hold back. Even the doctor covered his reddened eyes with his right hand as he cradled the baby against his body with his left. Though I had lost the ability to shed tears, I felt everything in my heart-filled soul and will remember it all forever. The weeping doctor took away his right hand exposing his matured face laden with perspiration. He wore an expression of total relief and gratefulness as he handed the crying baby over to his weeping mother.

"Oh, by the way-it's a boy," he said with a humorous chuckle. And with that the mother and nurse both laughed and cried openly in front of one another with incomparable joy!

Chapter 5

Our Last Days at the Hospital

From experiencing the birth of that child in the delivery room, that night, I felt very close to Stephanie's new son. The baby weighed in just under six pounds. He showed no signs of drug addiction or disease except for a little jaundice. Stephanie wanted to hold the baby while she lay in her bed, but the hospital decided to keep both separate and under close observation for a couple of days. Stephanie and I knew that God had His hand in this special birth. She later told a visitor she wanted to name her son, Adam, because he gave her "new life."

"This is the only thing that will give you new life!" replied the visitor while tossing a little white packet on her lap.

"No more drugs!" replied Stephanie. "I have a son to take care of !"

Stephanie's faith in God grew stronger and she agreed to continue the drug rehabilitation program that the hospital put her on during her ten-day stay there. During that time she had only two other visitors and neither one looked to be a healthy influence to her or her baby. I've seen users all too often "dry out" while in the program, only to give in to the strong temptation of their environment after recovery. I didn't want the same things to happen to that baby that happened to many other children brought up in the midst of crime, violence, and drug abuse.

Oh, about that other woman, Jacquelyn, who was admitted at the same time as Stephanie. She finally went into actual labor a day later. I was there to witness the birth of her son, also. Her delivery went on without a hitch. The 6th floor nursing staff was delighted to see her finally deliver a healthy six-pound boy, named Jonathan Edward, who could have passed of as Adam's twin brother. They looked remarkably similar. The staff was a little disappointed when she decided to drag out her stay at the hospital seven more days after the birth of her son even though there were no apparent complications to either one. Jacquelyn kept the nurses busy day and night with her constant complaints of discomfort, most of which being mild headaches and indigestion. Of course, she would occasionally need her pillows fluffed up, too.

I spent countless hours watching the newborns through the glass from the hall. Both were doing well, but one was headed for the ugliness of inner-city poverty and crime, while the other would be surrounded by beauty and comfort in a healthy environment. Neither one had control of his fate and it just didn't seem fair to me at all. I began to cry after thinking of what could happen to Adam. I felt as though he was my own son. I wanted to protect him from all that was going to become a part of his life, but I could do nothing. It would break my heart to see him grow up as a street-wise drug addict stealing, lying, and cheating in order to get his next fix.

I would go back to my bench in the park every night and pray to God for the answer. I would look at the lights from the 6th floor windows and talk to Adam, warning him about the things to come, hoping that I could some how make him understand that he had to be strong and independent enough to walk away from the evil that will surround him. I told God that I wanted to watch both boys grow up in their contrasting environments. I wanted to witness the injustice of a society who could "take care of their own" if the wealthy people in that society would look to help their brothers and sisters instead of spending all of their energies acquiring more wealth and power. Little do they know that all of what they yearned for is meaningless to God and all of the lives they overlooked meant everything to Him.

As I laid there on the bench staring at the stars, I recalled the dream I had a week ago. I knew that I would later see the pictures in the dream not as photos, but as real life in the years to come. When the next morning arrived, it was time for Jacquelyn to check out. Her husband was there to take them both home. I decided to hitch a ride in the back seat of the Mercedes to find out a little of what was in store for the infant child. The baby was placed in a nice plush car seat that was belted down in the back seat next to me. During the half-hour ride to the suburbs, the only sound I heard was Jacquelyn going on about how rude the staff was and the terrible service the hospital provided her. The husband responded with an occasional reply of "uh huh" which seemed to work well. The baby slept quietly during the whole ride home. The car slowed down to turn through a tall gate that enclosed a mansion and a large circular driveway. The front yard alone must have been at least two acres of plush grasses with well-landscaped flowers and bushes. I could see already that this child had not to worry about poverty in his future.

Since I now knew the way to their home, I decided to turn back and head for the hospital. I wanted to walk and enjoy the scenery of the beautiful neighborhood. As I finally made it to the end of Park Avenue, I decided to rest on a bench at the bus stop. My mind was on Stephanie and her son. I hoped and prayed that she would have a successful recovery. When I asked God how she would do, He gave me no clue. I had an uneasy feeling of what would happen to her and her son in the future and I knew that I would spend much of my time observing them both. I prayed to God to give me the power to change the events in their lives or somehow influence them into a positive direction, but again I felt no response.

Just beside me sat an elderly man waiting for the bus. I was happy to see him there next to me because now I knew the bus would have to stop. It was about five minutes later when the bus came to a stop in front of us with the brakes squealing while blowing its black smoke all around us. I followed the man onto the bus and stayed on until it came to my destination, the hospital, of course.

It was getting close to noontime. I decided to go on up and check on Stephanie. She was looking well, compared to the way she looked when she was first admitted. Her hair was clean and shiny. She was at the mirror putting on makeup and admiring herself. I was happy to see her taking care of herself and liking what she saw in the mirror. I went down the hallway to get a last look at her son. They were both scheduled to leave early the next morning. The boy was looking strong and healthy. I could see his eyes dancing all around through the narrow opening of his eyelids.

This is what God wants us to be more like: the innocent children who have not yet learned any kind of deceit, lies, dishonesty, or any other negative characteristics which lie within us all to some extent. This is why God holds the children of the world closest to His heart. Yes, if we could only be more like His children, the world would be a much better place to live in. I know for a fact that when that day comes and God rounds up all of the lost souls to join Him, we will all be just like children, totally exempt from any negative attributes, which reside in abundance, in the world's people of today. There will be no fear, no jealousy, no dishonesty, no pain, no disease, no mistrust, no cheating or lying when God finally opens the gates of Heaven. I, for one, cannot wait for that great day to come.

As day turned to night and night to day, it was time for the small family to depart. A cab was waiting outside to take them both to an apartment and of course I hitched a ride. I was familiar with their place of residence from only the outside, but now I would get to see what kind of world lurked within the walls of the projects. We walked up the narrow staircase to the second floor. The walls were filled with profanities and dirty fingerprints. Her apartment was located on far end of the hallway. The sound of children crying, parents yelling, and music blaring, filled the area of the hallway. When she opened the door to her apartment, I could see a sparsely furnished living room with a portable TV, a couch covered with a quilt, and an old rocking chair.

"It could have been much worse," I thought to myself.

The smell of fresh paint filled the room. I could see the open kitchen straight ahead. The open cupboards were filled with food and baby formula. The old refurbished refrigerator was well stocked, also. Everything was clean and looked to be very livable. Most of the sound from the other apartments was muffled now. I could see by Stephanie's face, she was very happy.

"This is our new home, Adam. Isn't this nice?" she said in delight as she tickled him under his tiny chin.

She went to look at the bedrooms. One was decorated with light blue wallpaper, bordered with pastels of baseballs, bats, and gloves. The old crib was freshly varnished and looked to be in good condition.

"This is your room, Adam. What do you think?" she said with a bright smile.

Just then there came a knock on the door. Stephanie put down the baby and went to answer with a somewhat concerned expression.

"Hey Steph, nice place!" exclaimed Bennie, (one of her visitors that I recalled from the hospital).He was holding a brown paper bag.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

"Please, not right now, Bennie." She replied in a polite voice.

"I'm really tired and I need to take a long nap and so does Adam. Maybe some other time, OK." she said.

"Where is the little guy? I'd like to see him." said Bennie.

"Not right now, we're both very tired. We just got back from the hospital." replied Stephanie.

"I thought you might want to help me drink this twelve-pack," said Bennie.

"No, really Bennie, I'm tired, besides I quit drinking anyway." replied Stephanie one more time.

"Yea, right!" exclaimed Bennie. "OK, suit yourself. See ya later."

With that, Stephanie closed the door and latched all three locks that bolted the door securely. Stephanie went to tuck the baby in and then went to lie down, herself. The couch was looking very inviting to me so I decided to do the same, too.

Chapter 6

As the Years Flew By....

I spent most of my time keeping an eye on both families, though the majority of my observations remained in the ghettos. I guess I really felt at home on that side of town, despite the violence and corruption that flowed within. I always found time to lay down and reflect on the bench in the park. I continued to pray to God that He would give me the power to protect Stephanie and her son from all that was out there, but all I could do was stand by and watch. It broke my heart to see Stephanie finally give in to the powerful influences that surrounded her and her child. Her son became a victim of neglect from his frequently-stoned mother and abused repeatedly by her many boyfriends. The apartment became just another "drug hangout." The once well-stocked cupboards were filled with empty beer cans and roaches. The hinges on the refurbished refrigerator were broken. Ashes from joints and cigarettes that had been trampled down into the beer-stained carpet gave the apartment a stale and foul odor. The bedrooms consisted of mattresses lying on the floor with their broken frames propped up against the walls. The wrinkled sheets that lay on top were a dingy yellow. The closet doors were broken off the hinges. The once clean spirit that filled the apartment was chased away by the spirit of darkness. That apartment was overtaken and swallowed whole by the unclean atmosphere that surrounded it.

I tried to change the direction in which Stephanie was leading her son, but was powerless to stop it. Stephanie died a month ago from an overdose of heroine and her thirteen-year-old son roams the streets of the inner city, stealing and cheating his way to his next fix. I stood helplessly watching it all happen. My prayers seemed to go unheard, but God always has His reasons and who am I to question them.

Well, it was time for me to find Stephanie's son, who was now known as "Badger" for his ability to fight anyone who tried to take what was his. He has been really down lately from the recent death of his mother. His drug use has been escalating. His future looked dim. He was borderline suicidal and all I could do was watch him slowly kill himself with higher and higher doses of drugs to relieve the pain in his heart. The time is just minutes before dusk in the fall of '98. It was exactly thirteen years since my own death. I could see him in the distance near the entrance of the opera house, probably asking the refined citizens of the city for some spare change. As I get closer, I could see him in the middle of the sidewalk, interrupting every person that walked by. As I got even closer, I could see a very familiar lady and her son. Yes, it was indeed. Jacqueline and her son, approaching the entrance. When "Badger" asked her son for some spare change, she jerked her boy by the arm and scolded and lectured Badger about the evilness of the streets. He promptly gave her the finger and went on to his next prospect.

"If he was my son, I'd really let him have it!" she exclaimed to her son. "Where are his parents?"

I remained outside with Badger while the opera was coming to an end. By this time Badger had put together enough money to pay the local dealer for a large dose of cocaine. He snorted it all and decided to go back and catch the patrons of the opera on their way out. As he waited, he leaned up against the building. His legs seemed to just give out. He was now sprawled out across the sidewalk just outside the entranceway. As the people came piling out, they had to actually walk over and around him to get by.

"Look mother, its that beggar. He needs help. We can take him to the hospital." said the boy.

"He needs help all right. He needs his parents out here to knock some sense into him!" she replied.

She got down on her knees to look into Badger's eyes. His pupils were completely dilated and his speech severely slurred. Though she was disgusted with the boy's appearance, she somehow felt the need to help him. She had never gone out of her way for anyone, before.

"He's just terribly stoned from drugs" she said. "Let's go home. There's nothing we can do for him. His parents should be put in jail for allowing him to get like this!" she exclaimed as she got up and walked toward her nice shiny BMW.

As she walked away, I gazed at her son with total admiration as he looked back entirely concerned about Badger's health. And I found myself bursting with pride... You see, Badger is the real blood-son of Jacqueline (Jonathan Edward), while Adam had been, unknowingly adopted by her for thirteen years. My love for Adam, compelled me to switch him and Jonathan after many tear-filled prayers to God from my old park bench under the tree. God was kind enough to grant me the power of a human just that once, to switch the infants. I never worried about Adam for an instant. I knew that he was very special and would have a chance to grow with all of the advantages that money could by. Adam later grew up to be a well-respected doctor, helping the poor and less fortunate with the best equipment and technology that "his" money could buy.

Jacqueline later gave into the plea of her son to adopt Badger. With the help of his mother and the camaraderie of his new brother, Badger later became a well-respected counselor to the under-privileged children of the streets. Both brothers still meet for lunch daily and visit their mother every Sunday. They still find it amusing while listening to her go on about the money they throw away on the poor, because they both know that down in her heart, her pride for them is overflowing.

Well, I feel that I can now leave this town knowing that it will be a better place. I'll miss that old green park bench and the boys I come to love. I have confidence that there will be a place for Adam and Jonathan in the "City With Streets of Gold" and I look forward to personally meeting them both when that day comes.