“Mr. Challies, we want you to know that we have received Nick into our care. Rest assured that he is in the very best of hands.”
The message comes as a relief, for it means that Nick’s long, last, lonely journey is complete. Even if he can’t come home, he has at least arrived back in his own country, back in his own town. It is not as we hoped. It is not as we imagined. But it is as God willed.
“Have you chosen the clothes you’d like him to wear?” The question seems equal parts significant and ridiculous. How could it possibly matter what he wears in his casket? But, on the other hand, how could we not clothe him in something smart, something dignified, something befitting his humanity?
We choose a handsome grey sweater, well-worn jeans, casual shoes. Rummaging through the basement we find a bag to hold it all. We fold each piece of clothing carefully, a neat pile, one item upon another.
“Once we have prepared him, would you like to see him?” We haven’t seen him in three months, not since the start of the semester. Should we see him one
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