Bliss

Many thanks to ressa_francis for the amazing book cover.

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Young Bliss Johnson stood up from the circle of second graders, holding a small tin in her hands. All eyes were on her as she slowly walked up to the front of the room. Her floral-print dress flowed around her scraped knees as she stopped and stood in front of her eighteen other peers. The teacher, Miss Brown, let a tear escape as she sat down in a small chair at the back of the room.

"Hello," said Bliss, staring down at the assembled kids. A sad smile was plastered to her face as her eyes darted to each child. "When we all woke up this morning, we thought it would be just another normal day at school. Work, recess, more work, lunch, and - again - more work."

The group nodded, confusion boiling in their gleaming eyes. They sat impatiently, their legs crossed and resting on the carpet. Hair was twirled in delicate fingers. Feet were tapping against the floor, their thumps muffled. Heads were thrown back with boredom, eyes looking up at the ceiling above them.

"After being sick for the last couple weeks, my mom took me to the hospital yesterday. I was there for two hours. Before I left, I had taken more than twenty tests," Bliss continued sadly. Her words were rehearsed; her mother had told her the night before what to say to them. "Then we got the answer this morning before I left for school. I have leukemia."

Two small gasps were let out from the back of the group. The other sixteen children looked at Bliss with bewilderment. Miss Brown took that as the time to step in. Getting up from her chair, she walked up next to the skinny, blonde-haired girl. "What Bliss is trying to say is that she has a very bad sickness. It wasn't treated in time, though."

A brown-haired boy with glasses rose his hand. After Miss Brown nodded at him, he asked, "So what's gonna happen to her?"

The young teacher swallowed, another tear falling from her brown eyes. "Bliss only has two or three more weeks to live because they couldn't find a donor willing to give her something called bone marrow, which would help her get better," she explained.

Some children sniffled, others started to cry. Four or five little girls ran up to Bliss and threw their arms around her, give her a gentle hug, as not to hurt her. Miss Brown choked back the water that threatened to spill down her pink cheeks.  This girl doesn't deserve to die, she thought, watching the rest of the students stand up and gather around the small girl. 

Angela Brown could clearly see the bruises running up and down her arms and legs - a clear sign that this wasn't all just a joke. She couldn't help but feel this was all unfair, that God chose the wrong person to give this nasty disease to. Bliss was a sweet little child, always helpful to her peers. One of the smartest eight-year-olds Miss Brown had every seen, Bliss knew the difference between good and bad, Heaven and Hell, God and the devil, and life and death.

Angela just didn't see why it had to be this little girl. She gladly would take her place, to have leukemia instead of Bliss.

The second graders blinked back tears that threatened to spill, their eyes pink and puffy, their tear-stained faces now flushed. Rain traveled down the windows outside, the grey sky delivering tears of sadness. A chill ran through the room. The scene was heart-breaking.

Bliss blinked back her own small tears as she stepped out from the crowd. Still, she held the small tin in her hands. Walking over the short table in the corner of the room, she spilled the contents out onto the surface, hearts the size of pennies rolling across it. Each of them held a small word in curly, black font: Bliss.

Each child gasped with anguish, the thoughts sinking in. Bliss didn't grow up around a loving family. Her mother and father had to deal with her fifteen-year-old brother who was constantly getting into trouble. This caused her to be forgotten. She need love. She needed affection. She need a true family.

Therefore, Bliss was giving her love to each person that truly meant the world to her: to each person that stood around her at that moment. No one else in the world mattered. Just the other nineteen people in that small classroom.

Time stopped. Rain plummetted against the window. No one made a sound. Tears slipped silently down cheeks. Yet, no one sniffed. No one said a single word. No one dared interrupt the silence enveloping them all.

A single movement snapped the world back into place.

The blonde child set the tin down onto a plastic chair, then turned to the congregation of kids. "Did you know that bliss means happiness?" she asked, smiling at them. "Really, I have been happy since I started at this school. I love it here. I love all of you guys. I couldn't be happier."

Her words were said with all honesty. In her eyes were one emotion, one feeling that settled the thoughts of every student in that room, that made the teacher cry more than she every had. The one thing that told everyone she had ever met that she would be okay; that she knew she was dying, and was perfectly fine with it. In her eyes was bliss.