Monday, April 29, 2013
Wes turned toward Stevie and smiled. "My favorite person," he said. "Even if you are a hard taskmaster. I guess you'll be leaving for Los Angeles today," Wes said, the smile fading from his eyes. "I'll miss you."
Stevie swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'll miss you too." As she gazed at her young protege, she recalled the long hours they had spent together in the hospital as Wes fought through his pain to question her about faith and forgiveness. Once again she had to fight tears as she remembered his sweet, simple prayer of repentance and commitment to God.
"I have a present for you," Wes said. "A present for me? How thoughtful." Stevie opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. On it was scrawled a simple poem, one that expressed gratitude and appreciation—and hope.
"Thank you, Wes," she whispered, the tears she had been fighting finally spilling over onto her cheeks. "I couldn't have wished for a nicer gift." "You’re my favorite writer in the whole world," Stevie said, brushing the wetness from her face.