The skeptical angel was innocently bouncing on the bright yellow chair one day when the persuasive little saint saw his chance. After all, his darling kid sister was acting like a heathen, and it was up to the older, wiser one to point out the error of her ways. What followed was a conversation that went something like this:
“Kylie, there’s gonna come a sad, sad day when you’re going to die. But it’s not going to be too sad because, well, maybe in a few days you’ll go to heaven.”
“Why do I have to die?”
“Cause, Kylie, you have to die before you can go to heaven. See, you’re going to die, and they’ll bury you in the ground, and then -”
“But I don’t want to die.”
“Kylie, you have to die. That’s the only way you can go to heaven. Kylie, you need to go to heaven.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Yes, you do. Cause otherwise you have to go to hell. You have to go to hell if you don’t go to heaven.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do, Kylie. You don’t want to go to hell.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to die.”
“But you have to die first. You have to die to go to heaven. There’s no way you’re going to be able to go before you die.”
“But I don’t want to die.”
And so, in the end, the persuasive little saint was forced to abdicate all attempts and move out until the next opportune moment. And the unconvinced angel was left to bounce unaccosted on her bright yellow chair.
And that is a fairly typical conversation in the lives of my nephew and niece, aged 5 and 3 respectively.
