Kerry

Sunday morning, the day after Christmas, wasn't a usual Sunday morning. Normally, the church had two services on Sunday morning, at 8:30 and 11:00, but today, both services would be combined into one at 10:00 so that everyone could be together and the choirs could be combined for the special music. I found myself worrying, even during breakfast, if the soloist would be able to sing well. Although the combined choirs had done very well in practice, and I had confidence in them, it was still a big event for them, and I was a little concerned about that as well. I had already practiced my organ voluntaries for the service, and believed I had them learned well, but every musician has concerns. I had a lot on my mind.

Roy and Doris were helping the girls get ready for church, Joe and Darrell were getting themselves ready, and Kerry was putting away the breakfast dishes while I was in the office getting my music together. I had already closed my music satchel when the phone rang, and I answered.

"Hello."

"Good morning, Mike, and Merry Christmas. This is Rev. Keller."

"Oh, good morning and Merry Christmas to you. What's up?"

"Well, I was wondering if you would mind if we make a minor change in the service this morning. Instead of our usual processional hymn, I was wondering if you could accompany a special guest soloist we have this morning who would like to sing "Once in Royal David's City." I seem to remember that this is the traditional beginning to some holiday services in England. Do you think that the choir could enter while the soloist sings, and maybe join in on the final verse?"

"Well, that sounds simple enough, I am sure we could do it. Obviously it would have been better if we had a chance to rehearse it once or twice, but maybe we can run through it once in the choir room before the service begins. The main problem is the soloist. It would be better if she could meet with us in the choir room and run through it once so that we can get the phrasing together. Also, I don't even know what key she wants to sing it in."

"I see your point, Mike, but I am afraid we can't do that. The soloist can't be there until a little after the service begins. As to the key, I believe the one that's in the hymnal should work fine. I know this is last minute stuff, Mike, and I'll understand if you say it's too late to do it, but if possible, I would appreciate it if we could try."

"As I said, I am sure we can do it. We have done that hymn before, and it's not that difficult. I am sure the choir could do it."

"That's great. Let's do this: Start your prelude exactly at 10:00 a.m. instead of just before as you usually do - that should give the soloist time to get there. Have the choir get ready for their processional as usual after the prelude, then you just give the soloist a short introduction. He will sing three verses, then have the full choir enter on the last verse. Is that OK?"

"Yes, but let me ask you this. Do you think the soloist could sing the first verse without accompaniment?"

"I don't see why not."

"Well, why don't I give a short organ introduction. The soloist will sing the first verse without accompaniment. The choir will process in during the next two verses with organ accompaniment, then have a short organ interlude, perhaps a modulation, and then the choir will join in for the final verse. That will give us a better "build up" into the service. What do you think?"

"As usual, that sounds great. You are much better at musical presentations than I am, and I appreciate that very much. I know I depend on you for a lot, Mike, and I want you to know that I really do appreciate the contributions you always make to our services. I've heard nothing but good things from the congregation about you and the music program. Thanks a lot - I know this will go well."

"OK, we'll give it a try."

"Thanks again. See you in a little while. 'Bye now."

"Good-bye."

I hung up the telephone and picked up the hymnal to see what key that hymn was in. It was in the key of F Major, and could easily be modulated up to G Major during the interlude and still not be too high for the choir to sing. I made a note of the hymn number and put it into my satchel.

Kerry came to the door just as I closed my satchel. "How's it going, Dad?" he inquired.

"Not bad, Son. Rev. Keller just called me with a revision of the service this morning."

"Is it going to be a problem for you?"

"No, it seems simple enough. It's just that we have worked so hard on the Christmas program for so long, it is a little distracting to have it changed at the last minute. But we've done it before, and I am sure we will be asked to do it again. It's no real problem."

"You can do anything, Dad. I know you'll do great." He came over and hugged me, and I hugged him back.

"I'm sure I can, Son. Now you go and get dressed before we are all late."

He giggled and ran to his room to get dressed. I went into the living room and sat down for a few minutes to collect my thoughts and see if I could work the change more smoothly into the service. Dawn and Marie were dressed and sitting on the couch waiting for everyone else. Joe and Darrell were in the kitchen drinking a final cup of coffee, and Roy and Doris were getting ready in their bedroom. 

"Is the children's choir going to sing today," asked Marie.

"No, Honey, they sang during the Christmas Eve service Friday evening. Today it will be the chancel choir and youth choir combined during the service, and the handbell choir is going to play a few numbers before the service. And we apparently have a new soloist in town for this service, but that's about all I know."

"Oh, great," said Dawn, "we get to hear the handbells. I like how they sound."

"I'm glad you do. One of the girls in our handbell choir is about your age. You may want to try it yourself in your church when you get back home. You are not too young, and you may enjoy it." 

"Isn't it hard to do?" asked Dawn.

"It isn't easy, and you do have to practice a lot and be very precise when you play, but it's not that hard once you get used to it. You just have to concentrate and make yourself do it right. Most of the players in our choir don't read music, they just learn to ring at the right time. If you want to do it, I'm sure you would be able to do it well if you tried."

Just then Kerry came in and sat on the couch with the girls. "Why doesn't Kerry play in the handbell choir?" asked Marie.

"Ask him," I answered.

"I just did."

"I just never thought about it," Kerry answered. "I'm taking piano lessons from Ms. Andrews, and I am learning about the organ from Dad. I guess I am just too busy."

"I never have been one to push my kids, and I am not pushing Kerry. He knows he can do anything he wants to as long as he has the time and interest and his grades don't suffer. I think he is right - he is into quite a lot right now, and the handbell choir is not easy. But he knows he can if he wants to."

"Is everybody ready?" asked Doris, as she came into the room with Roy.

"Looks that way," answered Darrell. "It's just about time to go."

"Then let's get started," I said. "I need to get there a little early so I can work with the choir a little bit."

Kerry, Joe, and Darrell rode with me in my car, while Roy's family came in theirs. When we arrived at the church, I went immediately to the choir room. Some of the choir were already there and getting into their robes. I asked one of the members there to round everyone up as soon as he could so we could go over the last-minute changes. While he went to find everyone, I went out to the organ and verified my combinations. I had to set up a couple of others to accommodate the new solo, and tested them as well. I registered my prelude, left my music on the console, and returned to the choir room. 

To my surprise, when I checked the bulletin for the day, I found that the changes were already there. The organ prelude would be followed by the solo, during which the choir would come in. After the Call to Worship, there would be a congregational hymn, then after some scriptural readings, the choir would sing the anthem. Then would follow the scriptural text, the sermon, the choral response, the creed, the soprano solo of Gesu Bambino, the offertory, a final hymn, the charge and benediction, and the postlude. It looked like it would work just fine.

Most of the choir were present before the service was to start at 10:00, so we practiced the third verse of the solo and went over a few sections of the anthem that some members felt needed more work. At 10:00 a.m., we had a short prayer in the choir room, which was our custom, then I went to the organ to begin the prelude, and the choir went to the narthex to get ready for the procession.

I began the prelude, a quiet rendition of Infant Holy, to an unusually hushed congregation. Usually, I had to compete with a low level of noise - people talking to each other, walking around, coming in, etc. Although I was not brought up that way - I had been taught to be quiet before the service began, and talk to everyone else after the service - I had gotten used to the practice of this congregation and it really didn't bother me that much any more. Since the services had been combined, and many families had guests from out of town, the sanctuary was much fuller than usual, making it that much more surprising. The quiet prelude, which I played mainly on the flute celeste stop of the Swell organ, seemed to just sing to me that morning, and I hoped it had the same effect on the congregation.

During the latter part of the prelude, I heard the pastor and his assistant come into the chancel area from the side door, as usual, but since I was still playing, I did not actually see them. As I had been told, I started a short introduction to Once in Royal David's City. After the introduction had set the pace and the key, I stopped playing and waited for the soloist to begin.

Then I know I heard the most beautiful sound I had ever heard in my life, as a young boy soprano voice literally filled the sanctuary. His voice was so clear, so pure, and so inspiringly beautiful, and his articulation and voice control were so flawless that I know there could not have been a dry eye in the congregation that day. I know my eyes were filled. As I looked into the mirror on the organ console, my eyes were so full I could just make out the outline of the young boy in a small choir robe as he stood beside the pulpit just in front of the organ well. This was pure ecstasy.

He finished the first verse, and I started the low accompaniment for the second verse as the choir started marching down the center aisle of the church. The young boy's voice seemed to crescendo along with the organ, but still so clear and pure that I wondered if I could get through the accompaniment from sheer memory - I certainly could not see the music. As the third verse began, the young boy's voice became even more powerful and beautiful, and the choir spontaneously began to hum the four parts of the hymn. The sound was absolutely heavenly! I began to hear very quiet whimpers and sobs from some of the congregation, but the clarity of the boy's voice literally filled the room. It was so beautiful I didn't know what to do.

At the conclusion of the third verse, I began a short interlude and modulated to G Major. At my direction, the choir started the final verse. We had thirty-eight voices in the choir that morning, and they sang beautifully, but the boy's young voice soared above them with a beautiful descant melody. I had never heard anything like it in my life! The hymn concluded, the sanctuary was absolutely silent, and I reached for a tissue to dry my eyes. Moist eyes were everywhere in the choir.

The Call to Worship was completed, and the congregation sang Angels We Have Heard On High. The music was very powerful with so many in the congregation that day, and the organ seemed to give just the right amount of support to the singing. A church organist always strives for that in his playing, and I had felt that feeling numerous times in my career, but each time the feeling was special. There is just something about an inspired congregation that just throws its head back and SINGS! I had no doubt that the opening number had inspired this, and although I felt honored to have had a part in it, I found myself thinking, "To God be the glory!" 

After the scriptural readings, the choir sang the anthem, Gustav Holst's Christmas Day, a medley of carols which is very effective as a choir anthem, ranging from very quiet to gloriously loud, and with an organ accompaniment that varies from very quiet to thunderous chords supporting the choir melodies. The choir did an absolutely glorious job singing the piece, and with the final "Christ is born today," again I heard the muffled sounds of a teary-eyed congregation. It was beautiful!

All through the sermon I was in a daze. I knew we had a fine choir, and although I knew I was not the greatest in the world, I was a competent organist, and we had worked so well together that morning that the entire service had been taken up quite a few notches. But I couldn't get the boy soloist out of my mind! The world should be hearing him! Surely he had been well trained, and probably he had made a few recordings. A voice like that would certainly have been noticed before. But who was he? Where was he from? How did he hear about our church, and what made him want to sing there? And at the last minute? If I had known he was available, I would have tried to contact him before and have him sing for us at a number of special services. I was determined to meet him after the service and find the answers to these questions.

The sermon ended soon, or so it seemed to me, and I played for the choral response. The congregation recited The Apostle's Creed, and I prepared for the soloist to sing. I hoped she had been inspired as well and would do better than she had in all our rehearsals, but resolving to do the best I possibly could to help her, I began the introduction. On cue, she began to sing, and she was definitely on her game today! She sang better than I had heard before, and that began to make me relax at the console and the organ seemed to respond to that. Things were going great. 

But then, at the start of the second section of the piece, I heard a second voice. I looked into the mirror at the console and clearly saw the same young boy standing with the soloist and singing. 

IT WAS KERRY! 

As the soprano sang the upper melodic line of the piece, Kerry was singing "O come, let us adore Him" as the countermelody. If anything, his voice was more beautiful now than it had been during his first solo. God, it was beautiful! It was gorgeous! It was inspiring, and oh, God, how proud I was of my son! To this day, I am surprised that I was able to continue to sit at the organ and play. I just wanted to run down there and hold him! My God, I was so proud of him! God, what did I ever do to receive such a blessing as this boy?

The solo ended, and I will swear there was not a dry eye anywhere! I sat at the console, unable to move. There was absolute silence in the sanctuary. Obviously, everyone there had felt a presence they had never felt before. I have said it so often in this story that it may have lost some of its impact, but we had all heard the voice of an angel that morning.

I got through the rest of the service in a daze. I was so proud of Kerry that I could hardly sit still on the bench to complete the service. I suppose I must have done at least a fair job, because several people complimented me on the way back to the choir room, but I don't remember any of it. I had my mind on one thing - trying to find my son. 

As I entered the choir room, Kerry literally smothered me with a hug. I held him tighter than I ever had before. I don't know how long we held each other, but I couldn't have said a word to save my life. I have never been so moved. After what seemed like forever, I heard my little boy say, "Merry Christmas, Daddy. I hope you liked it."

"I LOVED it, Kerry. Where on earth did you ever learn to sing like that? I am amazed! I can't tell you how beautiful I thought it was."

"I've been practicing when you weren't around, and Ms. Andrews has been working with both of us on our duet. She thought it would be a nice Christmas surprise for you."

"It was, Kerry. I can't imagine a more beautiful Christmas gift than that. I loved it, and I love you." I held him again.

After a while, I heard Kerry whisper softly into my ear, "I love you, too, Dad." But then in a louder voice, so that everyone in the room could hear, he continued, "Well, that's not all you are getting. I have another surprise for you, if you will let me down." I put him down and he said, "Sit down right here." He pulled up a chair and had me sit down. "First of all, there are some more people who need to be here. Come on in, guys," he called, and my family came from behind a curtain at the rear of the room. Dawn and Marie ran over to me, and Roy, Doris, Joe, and Darrell brought up the rear. They were all smiles. I noticed then that none of the combined choir members had taken off their robes, and they were forming at the rear of the room in front of their chairs. 

Rev. Keller came through the door at that moment, and asked, "Am I too late?"

"No," answered Kerry, "you are just in time. You're on!"

"Oh, well, here goes. Mike, I guess I missed the big moment when your son officially wished you a Merry Christmas, but believe me, all of us shared your gift with you, and all of us loved it beyond measure. God was truly present in our service today, as I believe He always is, but today He brought one of His angels with Him in the person of a little boy named Kerry. He has blessed all of us in a very special way today. But we thought there could be no better time than now to truly make your Christmas special and to bring to an end something that has been on your mind for almost five months now. For that we have four special guests with us. I believe you know Doyle Matthews, and this is Judge Ralph Martinson, his court reporter, and his bailiff."

Doyle and an older gentleman I had never met before, along with a young woman and a thirty-something-year-old man, came from behind the curtain. The older man was dressed in a black robe. Doyle and the men came toward me, and the young woman set up what appeared to be a Stenograph machine and sat down next to it. Doyle then started to speak to me. "Mike, I told you that this case would be heard in early January, but I also told you that you had the first team working for you, and we have gotten a little ahead of schedule." 

The judge sat down behind a table. The bailiff stood beside him and said, "This Court is now in session, the honorable Judge Ralph Martinson presiding. Everyone be seated and come to order." The choir sat down in their chairs, Kerry sat down beside me, and Rev. Keller also took a seat. Doyle remained standing.

"Your Honor," Doyle began, "the case before you today is a petition for managing conservatorship of one Kerry Lee Patterson, a minor child who now resides with the petitioner, Mr. Michael Dwain Newman, in a foster father/son relationship. You have before you the original petition and supporting affidavits for this case. Would the following persons present please stand as your name is called: Mr. Michael Dwain Newman, Kerry Lee Patterson, Henrietta Louise Langford, Rev. Alexander Brent Keller."

All of us stood as we were called.

The bailiff faced us and said, "Raise your right hands. Do you and each of you swear that the testimony you shall give before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"We do."

"Be seated, and would Mr. Michael Dwain Newman please take the stand?"

A choir member hurriedly brought another chair and placed it beside the table where the judge was seated. I got up and went to the chair and sat down.

"Please state your full name and address for the record," said Doyle.

"Michael Dwain Newman, 1324 Royal Court," I answered.

"Are you the foster father of Kerry Lee Patterson, a minor child the subject of this case?"

"I am."

"Since you first met this child, have you been able to locate any blood relatives of the child who may wish to pursue custody?

"I have not."

"Is it your desire to be named managing conservator of this child, and remain so until he reaches the age of 18 years, or graduates from high school, or until further decree of this court?"

"It is, except that I intend to pursue full adoption within the next year."

"Are you aware of any reason why this petition should not or cannot be lawfully granted?"

"No, I am not."

"Thank you, Mr. Newman. You may step down. Would Kerry Lee Patterson please take the stand?"

Kerry did so, and Doyle continued.

"Please state your full name and address for the record."

"Kerry Lee Patterson. I live with Mr. Newman at 1324 Royal Court."

"Are your parents living?"

"No, Sir."

"With whom did you live before going to live with Mr. Newman?"

"I lived with my stepfather, Mr. Lawrence Sanders, before he kicked me out. I was living on the street for three days before I met Mr. Newman."

"Do you know of any relatives who may wish to have custody of you?"

"No, Sir. I have a great aunt, but she is unable to take care of me. She is 85 years old."

"Would Ms. Henrietta Langford please stand?" An old woman stood up in the choir. "Is this your great aunt?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Is it your desire to have Mr. Newman as your managing conservator, and live with him until you reach the age of 18, or graduate from high school, or until further decree from this court?"

"More than ever, Sir, except that I hope that my Dad adopts me before then."

"When you speak of your dad, of whom are you speaking?"

"Mr. Michael Newman."

"Thank you. You may step down. Would Ms. Henrietta Langford please take the stand?"

The old woman got up from her seat in the choir and slowly made her way to the chair beside the judge.

"Please state your full name and address for the record."

"Henrietta Louise Langford, 4312 Brighton Highway, in Chicago."

"Are you the great aunt of Kerry Lee Patterson, the minor child who is the subject of this petition?"

"I am."

"Do you desire to seek custody of this minor child?"

"No, Sir, I do not. I love him dearly, but I am much too old to undertake that responsibility."

"Do you know of any other members of the child's family who would be eligible for custody?"

"No, Sir, I do not."

"Would you please enlighten us, Ms. Langford, of the events which led to this child's living with Mr. Newman?"

"I will. My grand niece was the child's mother. She passed away last year after a long battle with cancer. Due to her tremendous medical bills, she was unable to retain an attorney to prepare an official will, but she did write me this letter," she retrieved an envelope from her purse, "asking me to take custody of Kerry upon her death. She did not feel that her husband would provide a proper home for her son. I did not hear of her death until a few months afterwards, and as I had suffered a stroke shortly before then, I did not come forward with this letter. Mr. Newman later called me and informed me that he had Kerry with him after his stepfather had thrown him out. Although I did not know him, I felt better about the situation because he allowed me to speak to Kerry, and my grand nephew seemed so very happy. After speaking with Kerry earlier this morning, I am convinced beyond any doubt of his happiness with Mr. Newman as his foster father."

"Do you then consent to Mr. Newman being named as managing conservator of Kerry?"

"I certainly do, with absolutely no hesitation, Sir. It will be my pleasure, if I am still here when the time comes, to support his planned adoption of my grand nephew."

"Thank you. You may step down. Would Reverend Keller please take the stand?"

Rev. Keller took the stand.

"Please state your full name and address for the record."

"Rev. Alexander Brent Keller, 4311 Roanoke Lane."

"Are you acquainted with the parties to this petition?"

"I am. Mr. Newman has been the organist of this church during the seven plus years I have served as pastor, and Kerry Patterson is his foster son. I have observed them in their relationship with each other since its inception in August of this year, and I feel I know both of them quite well."

"Are you aware of any reason why this petition should not be granted?"

"I most definitely am not. It is my personal opinion that God has already blessed this relationship, and the formality of man's recognition of it is long overdue."

"Do you feel that the interests of Kerry Patterson will be well served if this petition were granted?"

"I most certainly do. I can assure this court and each person present in this room today that no one has any hope of finding a finer man to serve as a father to this child than Mr. Newman. I support this petition without reservation of any kind."

"Thank you. You may step down. Your Honor, I rest my case and move that this petition be granted."

The judge then spoke. "It is highly unusual for this court to hold sessions such as this in the choir room of a church, but the law can be administered here as surely and effectively as it is in the formal courtroom. It has been the pleasure of this court to accommodate the requests submitted by counsel, by the subject of this petition, and by the colleagues of the petitioner. I commend all of you for your support of this petition and your actions in support of the petitioner and the subject of this action. It is now my pleasure to state that, by the authority vested in me by the laws of this great State, I hereby decree that Mr. Michael Dwain Newman is named managing conservator of the minor child, Kerry Lee Patterson, with all rights, privileges, duties, and responsibilities of that position. Counsel will prepare the written decree for the signature of this court within five days. Merry Christmas to all present. Court is adjourned." He banged a gavel on the table.

"All rise," commanded the bailiff.

Everyone in the room rose to their feet. Kerry ran to me and threw his arms around my neck. I held him, unable to say anything. After a few moments, Rev. Keller began to speak. He was visibly moved, and it took several moments for him to find his voice. "May I have your attention, please?" he began. The room quietened once more. "Brothers and sisters in Christ, this morning, we have all been blessed with hearing the voice of a young man named Kerry Lee Patterson. In case you are interested, I happen to know that Kerry's singing today was as much a surprise to Mr. Newman as it was to the rest of us. I must confess that when Kerry came to me earlier this week and asked to sing today, I was a little apprehensive, since our music department has worked so long and hard on the service today, and I did not want to interfere with it. But he was persistent, and I am as happy as I am sure all of you are, that he was. I did not tell Mr. Newman who our guest soloist was to be today, and he found out only after this young man started to sing. Mike, as I am sure he told you before I arrived, Merry Christmas from your son."

The choir burst forth with loud applause. I was dumbfounded. I recalled yesterday when Kerry had said he wasn't sure if I would like his Christmas gift to me, and he wanted to be close to me. Who in the world wouldn't have loved such a gift? I felt so honored, but I was still dumbfounded. I couldn't have said a word if my life depended upon it.

Then, Rev. Keller continued. "Judge Martinson has just issued a decree that Kerry will live permanently with our organist, Michael Newman. To that decree, I add the blessings of Almighty God and the blessings of this congregation. Will everyone please join me in prayer?"

Every head was bowed.

"Our most precious and beloved Almighty God, we come before you with thankful hearts rejoicing at the event we have all witnessed in your church. We ask your blessings on Kerry, on Michael, and the rest of the family, as they strengthen the bonds which are already so strong among them. In strengthening these bonds, grant that they may also strengthen their bonds with You and the rest of us in this congregation. Lead them, as you lead all of us, together and individually, in the paths you would have us walk, and keep us ever under the protection of your wings, that we may grow in wisdom, in stature, and in favor with You and our fellow man. We ask Thy blessings on each one here today, and ask that you grant us your forgiveness for the times we most grievously may have offended You, and ask that you remain with us throughout the remainder of our lives, granting us pardon as it is needed, strength and courage as our situation necessitates, peace as it is sought, and salvation as You have promised. May we continue to praise Your Name in all that we say and do, as we pray in the name of Jesus our Saviour, and for his sake. Amen."

My head was still reeling, but I was aware of Kerry holding me so tight and sobbing softly. I stood up, still holding him close. He buried his face into my neck, as he had so often done before, and said, "Is it all right if I call you 'Dad' all the time now?"

"Yes, Honey. It even has a special ring to it now."

My family gathered around us, and the choir started singing an anthem, The Loving Hands of a Father, which we had sung last Father's Day. As usual, their singing was heavenly, and it covered a lot of tears.

After a few minutes, I put Kerry down, still holding his hand, and we both moved over to Ms. Langford. She stood up slowly as we approached, and held her arms out to me. As I embraced her, the first words she said directly to me were, "Son, if you can keep him as happy as I see him now, his mother and I will love you forever."

"Don't worry, Ms. Langford. He is part of me now, and I will do all I can to keep him happy. Thank you so much for coming. I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," she said as she kissed my cheek, then bent to embrace Kerry. "I love you very much, Kerry. You have a father who will be good to you now. Love him for me, and take care of him."

"I will, Aunt Etta. I love you, too."

I caught my breath, then circulated among the choir members, congratulating each of them and thanking them for their contributions this year. I spoke to and thanked Doyle Matthews, who told me to come by his office after Wednesday and pick up the decree. 

When I finally spoke to Judge Martinson, I almost broke down again. "Thank you so much, Your Honor. It was such a surprise for me, I am sorry if I didn't appear more grateful. I was just overwhelmed."

"That's quite all right, Mr. Newman. It is always a pleasure to be of service to such a dedicated and persistent group of people. You have great people on your side, in case you don't already know that. You have a fine son, and I am honored to have done this for you."

"Thanks again," I said, giving him a firm and heartfelt handshake.

After we left church, Ms. Langford joined us as we all went to a local restaurant for lunch. The rest of the family had to leave later on Sunday evening, but she wanted to stay until Wednesday afternoon, just in case she had to sign anything. We gladly checked her out of her hotel and she stayed with Kerry and me.

When it was time for bed that night, Kerry went to bed in his own room, but after nearly an hour, he came into my room and got into bed with me. "I thought Aunt Etta would probably feel better about me sleeping in my own room, but it's not right for us to be apart on our first official night together," he told me.

"You know I like to have you near me, Kerry, but I also know you are a big boy now. It's natural that you should want to start sleeping by yourself. Besides, love reaches through walls very easily."

"I know, but I want to be near you tonight. Good night, Dad. I love you."

"I love you, too, Son. Good night."

We slept in each other's arms.

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The End

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Please don't forget to read the Epilogue.

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