Steven’s Special Friend

There was nothing exceptional about Steven Daniels that would have marked him for greater things. He was a lonely lad. His parents were the only “college people” in a working-class neighborhood. You might say that they were idealistic hippies in a time when idealism was out of fashion.

The kids in the neighborhood never accepted Steven. His parents were seen as “different.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want friends. Typical was Joe Carbone. He and Steven were leaving school one day, and Steven said, “Would you like to come over and play?” Joe’s response was simple and clear, “My parents told me to stay away.” Steven was hurt, but he never showed it.

So it was that he found his way to religion. Steven was nine years old at the time. He remembered his age then for sure since his sister was born that year, and she was everything Steven could never be. His parents loved her beyond all measure. She returned their love with her outgoing, bubbly nature. It was the year that Steven learned that it was best to be seen as little as possible. Steven then found God.

His parents didn’t go to church, though most of their friends did. Their friends would sometimes ask his parents why they didn’t. Steven sensed that those people had something special that they were eager to share. He wanted that, too.

One day, in an inspired moment, he invented church for himself. Steven started speaking to God. Someone had told him that God is invisible and everywhere. That seemed odd, but Steven accepted it as one of those realities that just can’t be understood like how do radio waves work. They also told him that God answered silently but that he would know the answer when the time came.

“God,” Steven began, “I hope you can hear me. I’m told you can read my thoughts.” And so it began. Steven would visit with God through silent conversational thoughts. And God answered. Steven didn’t understand how, but the challenges that puzzled him solved themselves when he spoke with God about them.

It began with a school assignment. The teacher asked the class to write about “A Day in the Life of a Cat.” There was a workbook that they were to fill out and hand in. Steven knew that no one in class liked him. He kept to himself. He never spoke up. He was afraid to share something like a cat story even with his teacher,… especially with his teacher. She had told his parents that Steven was limited. He knew she was right.

God was there for him, though. “God, I don’t know how a cat feels. How can I write about a cat?” It was quiet. It was in those early morning hours before the alarm goes off. Steven lay still and waited. His thoughts were racing, then slowly, very slowly, they took form with clarity. Steven knew that God was there.

“Of course, you can’t know what a cat feels,” came the answer, “you’re not a cat. You’re Steven. All you can know is how you would feel.” That was liberating. Steven felt free.

He got up from bed early and turned on the light on his desk, keeping it shaded so his parents wouldn’t know he was up. He started to write on a piece of scrap paper. “If I were a cat, I’d be able to bound about with sheer joy. Not only that, if I were a cat, people would love me and want to cuddle with me. I’d make them happy, and I wouldn’t be a burden. I wish I were a cat.”

When he finished, he thanked God for the help. He was still afraid to put it in the notebook, but he had one more day before the notebook was due. He felt great relief as he went through the day thinking of himself as a lovable cat.

His conversation with God resumed the next morning. “God,” he thought silently to himself, “my teacher doesn’t like me. My parents don’t like me. It would be better if I’d never been born. Do you think I could actually be reborn as a cat?”

Again, the answer was slow in coming. The assignment was due. God led him to understand that truth was better than pretending. Steven went to school and turned in the notebook.

He never did become a cat. He did continue talking with God… And getting answers. He also continued writing, and God counseled him to always write the truth. He held that wisdom in his heart and soul through all the years between that childhood moment and today.

Steven never came to feel well liked, but today his inspirational writing is read by many. And they draw comfort from him. As though he really were a cat.

Note: This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to people or situations is coincidental.