Can You See Me?

“Just say it,” you silently reminded yourself.  As a child, you had wanted to visit the Moore’s house with its four children for years. “I want to be a part of all the fun.”

It was such a magnificent house in a child’s eyes. There was a large porch with a swing and there was a table that always seemed to have a pitcher of cold, tart lemonade ready for serving after a long hot day of play.

Children lucky enough to visit the Moore’s house were always treated to yummy cookies and snacks and fudge and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and other such goodies. Oh, how you longed to enjoy those goodies that were such a delicacy to a child!

The Moore children, two girls and two boys, ages 4, 6, 8 and 10, were always outside playing with their young cousins and friends. Running here and there and laughing and playing silly games and communicating in a language only children could understand. 

You were never among them.

One day, the father of the Moore children put up a big fat rope with a huge tire at the end of it for the kids to play on. There was a centuries old oak tree in the front yard and one of its immense branches grew out into the yard and was just perfect for the tire swing.

As you walked past the house, you now noticed the kids taking turns swinging on the newest addition to the yard, that tire rope swing. Round and round the swing went at dizzying speeds as each child took his or her turn on the swing. Squeals of delight pierced the air for hours as the children played and ran around the yard chasing each other and playing tag and other fun games that only very young children could enjoy.

You always felt you missed out on the fun at the Moore’s house because you had never been invited over to play.

The Moore’s house was huge and painted white with dark shutters and it had a big red door. 

You often wondered what was behind that big red door. Did it have a big kitchen where those cookies and goodies were made? 

Did each of the four children have their own bedroom that they could play in and sleep in at the end of their long day of adventures? Were their bedrooms chock full of toys and games and dolls and hamsters and bells and whistles and trains? 

You wished, no you longed, oh how you longed, more than anything to see inside that big white house with the big red door.

Unknown to you, today was to be a great day for the Moore family.

You saw their big black SUV pull into the driveway. Their dad was driving and their mom was in the passenger seat. Each of the children jumped out of the SUV one by one. And the oldest boy, the ten-year-old, and their dad walked to the back of the SUV and opened its large rear door.

And out bounded a very large dog! He was a dark brown color with a hulky head and large paws and was barking furiously as the children laughed and squealed and called him to them from the front yard.

“Here Max, come on boy,” each child called at the top of their lungs to the happy dog who already had his big pink tongue lolling out of the side of his huge mouth.

The dog ran around each of the children barking and jumping up and licking all of their faces. He ran here and there sniffing the tree and the swing; now he ran up the stairs and back down and ran to each child again, over and over. They seemed to be having so much fun with their new hulky chocolate Labrador dog!

But you weren’t part of the fun.

Today, you observed that the Moore family, all six of them, were coming out of their big red front door. They were all dressed up in fancy clothes. Both boys had on dark pants, white short-sleeved shirts and little bow ties. 

The two girls had on matching lacy pink dresses with ruffles around the necklines and with cute kittens imprinted on the material. Mom and dad were all dressed up, too. Both carried a Bible in their hand.

It was Sunday and the family was off to church in their Sunday best clothes.  You watched as the family drove away in their big black SUV.

You then got an idea.

 Once the Moore’s were out of sight, you looked around to make sure no one was watching. You then crept carefully up the driveway of their house, across the yard and up the stairs to the porch, right up to that big red front door. You peered into the sidelights, the windows on either side of the front door. It looked very dark and quiet and empty.

You wanted so much to go in. Oh, how you wanted to go into that house with the big red front door!

So you tried the big red front door and wonder of wonders, it opened right up – what luck, the big red front door was unlocked! You turned the doorknob and you quietly tiptoed in and closed the door.

You started to walk around the big house, admiring each room in turn with its expansive windows that allowed the sun to shine brightly in on the beautiful furniture and tables and chairs, on the fancy rugs and the big intricate vases and pictures on the wall and knickknacks on every shelf found in every room downstairs of that big white house with the big red front door.

You found your way into the large bright kitchen. You were amazed at its shiny huge refrigerator, its super big stove with six burners; it even had an oven built right into the wall! There was an oversized dining table with four chairs and a long bench where you assumed the family had breakfast and lunch. You could almost hear their boisterous laughter and fun chatter as each of the children relayed the school day’s happenings and their recklessly playful events. 

You sighed softly and sniffed and drew your finger across your nose. A tear ran down your cheek.

You then made your way up the giant staircase. There were six bedrooms, one for each of the children, mom and dad’s bedroom and a guest room. 

You went from room to room in awe of all the happy disarray of toys and books and game pieces and endless regalia of fun playthings and Legos strewn about each of the rooms.

As you made your way back down the staircase, you spotted a large crate. The family dog, Max, was sleeping soundly in the crate. You walked up to the cage and called quietly to the dog. “Hey, Max. How are you, big boy?” There was no response from the sleeping dog. He You didn’t even stir.

You turned to leave the house. And it made you sad that you weren’t a part of the kids’ fun and games and new dog adventures.

One day, when all the Moore children were outside playing on their tire swing and chasing their barking dog, Max, around, you decided you would be brave.

You would walk right up to their gate and ask them if you could come in and play with them.

Yes, that’s what you would do! So you gathered up all the courage that an eight-year-old boy could muster and you walked down the sidewalk and marched right up to the gate.

“Hello,” you cried. There was no response from the kids. “Hello,” you called out even louder. There was still no response from them.

What was wrong? Why didn’t they respond to you? They acted like you weren’t even there, like you didn’t even matter – like you didn’t even exist!

So you opened the gate on your own. You entered the yard and called out to the kids again.

“Hi, my name is Gabe. I’ve come to play with you guys today.” There was still no response from any of the kids or the dog. They acted like they didn’t even hear him.

So you turned and walked toward the gate, opened it and slowly walked down the sidewalk and out of sight.

      One day, the Moore children were bored. It had been raining for two days and they hadn’t been able to go out and play on their swing or run with their dog. Two whole days! No fair!

      So the oldest boy got an idea. “Hey, I know what we can do. Let’s go up to the attic. We haven’t been up there for a long time.” 

      The other children squealed and said, “Yay, yes let’s go up to the attic!”

      The oldest boy pulled down the attic stairs and all four children climbed up the stairs. Even Max managed to make it up the stairs with them, with the help of the youngest boy.

      They switched on the light and they could see the attic was dusty and full of spider webs. There were old suitcases and old furniture, their old broken rocking horse was up there, books and used toys of all kinds that their mother had wanted to save.

      In one corner, though, there was an unusual looking trunk that caught their attention.

      They all four went over to the trunk, struggled with the latch, and then opened it. Inside was a variety of old clothes, more picture frames, some with pictures and some without. Near the bottom of the trunk they found an old photo album with yellowing pages of photos of strange looking people and foreign places they had never seen before.

      And on one page of the album there were photos of a child at varying ages in life that they didn’t recognize. And there was writing on the page. The oldest boy said it looked like mommy’s handwriting.

      The name over all the pictures on the first page was “Gabriel.” 

      “Gabe – Age one month. Gabe – Age six months. Gabe – Age one year,” and on and on. The labels on the pictures were for each school year. Then suddenly they stopped. “Gabe– Age eight years.”

      “I wonder who Gabe was,” said the oldest child. “Let’s ask mommy,” cried the other children in unison.

      They all clamored back down the stairs of the attic again, along with Max and went to find their mom. She was in the kitchen preparing that evening’s dinner.

      They showed her the picture album and asked her who was the boy in the album whose name was Gabe? Mom’s eyes teared up and she said, “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I wanted to make sure you were all old enough to understand. Now is the time because you’ve found that album.”

      Mom started by saying, “Don’t interrupt me until I’m done, okay?” The kids all agreed. 

Mom explained that they all had another brother. “His name was Gabriel. There had been a terrible illness that went around school a long time ago and Gabe had gotten sick, very, very sick from the illness. We took him to the hospital and the doctors tried to save him. They tried very hard, but they just couldn’t save him. Your brother died from the illness.” 

Mom started to cry and the other children were very sad. They did not know they had another brother.

While this was going on, you were standing out in the rain in front of the big white house with the big red front door, but you weren’t getting wet. 

You felt like you needed to go into that house right now. So you walked up the driveway, up the stairs onto the porch, opened the front door and walked right in.

You heard the kids and so you climbed the staircase. You followed their voices and saw them all clamoring up the attic stairs that had been pulled down from the hall ceiling.

After they were all in that room upstairs, you, too, climbed that ladder and entered the attic, but stayed near the stairs.

You watched as the children placed the album carefully back into the dusty old trunk. But suddenly they got distracted when Max started barking at something near the stairs. They went over to see what was wrong, but there was nothing there.

So the children and the dog all jostled down the attic stairs and were out of sight.

You spied the old trunk and walked over to it. You saw the contents of old clothes and small shoes and pictures and frames and you saw that old photo album. And suddenly you knew what you needed to do.

You were Gabriel and you climbed into that old trunk and disappeared into the pages of that old dusty photo album. You were home at last in that big white house with the big red door. 

And you would always be part of the fun and play games and laugh and run forever as that little eight-year-old boy.