Laughter filled the skies.

Light bounced off every boy and girl, their faces beaming as their bodies soared through the voluptuous clouds lined with gold. Love poured from His throne like a river running wild. Everywhere you looked, mansions, shooting stars, banquet tables full to overflowing. Fields of blooming flowers stretched as far as the eye could see. Every colour, vibrant, every scent a delight. Loved ones reunited, hands clasped. Babies lost, babies unwanted, babies gone too soon. Their tiny toes that never tired, serenaded by gentle melodies. Friends embracing, sharing memories. Children flying sparkly kites. Men and women, young and old, bathed in a soft, golden glow of peace. 

There was nowhere any of us would rather be. Nothing we would rather be doing. Than together, finally home. 

‘Look, my brother’s awake!’ Emelie squeaked in excitement, cosying into the warmth of the softest cloud. ‘He’s found his stocking! Ohh, I just love watching him. Look at his face!’ She rolled around in glee, giggling with the other children. She never knew her brother on earth, but she knew everything about him up here. And she loved him.

A glorious orchestra of trumpets, harps, and flutes resounded through the air. The most melodic music I had ever heard, with notes that felt as warm as sunshine and permeated the heavens with a sweetness like honey. 

The morning had arrived, the one all of us had been waiting for: His birthday.

‘Noah!’ someone called. 

I leapt over to a cloud where crowds had congregated. And I knew. My family was stirring. They were all here to watch with me. To see my sisters, my brothers, and my parents. Everyone around me beamed, sharing in my joy as brilliantly as if it were their own. 

*

Darkness flooded our bedroom.

The glimmer of red velvet caught my eye from our stockings at the end of our bed. They were brimming with gifts. Mum and Dad were trying to make up for it. But nothing could, and they knew it.

His blue t-shirt that read “In my defence I was left unsupervised” was still on the radiator. No one had dared move it.

Poppy rubbed her eyes and yawned. ‘Has Santa been?’

I swallowed the lump in my throat and murmured, ‘Mmhmm.’

She stayed still. 

I snuck over to her bed and cuddled her, clutching the duvet around us.

‘Sarah? Poppy?’ a tired voice whispered at our door. A strip of light peeped in. ‘Are you awake?’

‘We are,’ Poppy whispered.

‘Mum and Dad are sleeping. Ollie cried loads last night.’ He turned around, staring at his bedroom door. ‘I’ve got no one to open my stocking with.’

‘Open it with us,’ I said, trying with all my might not to cry. I was the eldest now.

Finn tiptoed back to get his stocking and squeezed in next to me. Even though he was younger, he was taller than me already.

The floor creaked outside our room. Whispers. We glanced at each other, not knowing how to be, what to say, how to feel. Nothing felt right anymore.

‘I dreamt about him last night,’ Mum’s soft voice calmed my racing mind. ‘He was opening presents and laughing. So much laughing.’

‘He was the joker of the family,’ Dad whispered back.

Poppy smiled at me. She was already able to crack a smile.

‘He was happy,’ Mum said. ‘It felt so real. Like…’

Ollie cried. The whispers ended, and the floor creaked. Their door closed.

*

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

The angels sang. The dancing began.

My sisters and brothers were unwrapping their gifts and hugging Mum and Dad. Tears fell, and smiles lifted. They clung to one another, sang carols around the piano, and welcomed cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. The Christmas pudding was lit by Dad, and as usual, the whole thing went up in flames, and laughter broke out. 

‘Watch Mum, she’ll shake her head at Dad now, and Finn will say, “Do it again! Do it again!”’ I told Emelie.

‘You’re right!’ she replied. 

‘Sarah never used to hug Mum and Dad. Now, she can’t take her hands off them. She’s opening her heart.’ I smiled. ‘And Finn is trying to crack the jokes I would have today.’ I laughed. ‘He’s glowing with pride.’

‘He wants to be like his big brother. Look at Poppy. She’s clutching a photo of you.’

‘She had the same dream about me as Mum last night. They’ll dream, and they’ll remember.’

‘Noah!’ a woman with golden curls and a smile as beautiful as the dawn shouted me over. They were putting on a show for the little ones. Toddlers, babies, girls, and boys all waiting excitedly. ‘They want some jokes. You’re wonderful at telling them.’

‘Go on!’ another woman egged me on. She had pink spiky hair and a glint in her eye that made you feel right at home. She was painting a man with a rough beard and gentle eyes, clasping hands with a woman who wore pearls. They looked so happy. Soft piano keys were played nearby by a German woman in a starry blue dress, a tall man standing proud behind her. They sang songs of praise, bellowing out thanksgiving.

‘I’ll help,’ Emelie exclaimed, springing to her feet, and bounding toward the babies, tickling them, and cooing with the most natural grace I’d ever seen in another person. She had a special connection with them.

‘Coming!’ I called back.

Just then, flaming colours shot through the sky, each fiery colour bursting with life: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

I reached a hand toward my earthly home. ‘Hold on Mum, Dad, Sarah, Finn, Pops, and Ol. You’ve got this. Keep running the race. I’ll see you soon.’

*

Candles flickered on the table.

‘He would have loved today,’ Mum said, moving the Christmas pudding around on her plate with one hand and feeding Ollie some with her other.

Dad nodded, watching the rain trickle down the conservatory doors. The sun was determined to push through the navy clouds. 

‘He wouldn’t have liked the rain,’ Poppy grumbled.

‘He always prayed for snow,’ I added.

‘When was the last time we had snow?’ Grandma asked, smiling at me, Poppy, and Finn.

The conversation turned to the general weather and something about global warming. 

Finn told some jokes when the conversation fizzled out. They were Noah’s jokes. It painted smiles on all our faces. We watched the King’s speech and then talked about the Queen. I cuddled up with Mum on the sofa and held her hand. She grasped mine tightly, and I was glad. I felt closer to her than ever before. Dad kept winking at us all. 

When our aunts, uncles, and cousins went out on a short walk, it was just us left.

‘Mum and I wanted to have a moment with you, to share a memory of Noah, or to say a prayer.’ Dad looked at us, but no one wanted to go first. So, he did. ‘Noah, we want you to know that we miss you so much. We remember you every second of every day, and although it’s quite nice not to be bombarded by your jokes that were often worse than your old man’s, we miss them. Finn has decided to make those live on. So, help us, we pray.’

‘Dad!’ Finn playfully punched him.

We all laughed, and Poppy let go of the photo she’d been clutching. ‘Big brother, please ask God if Santa is real or not. Thank you. Oh, and then tell me.’

It was my turn. My heart galloped. Then I pictured Noah and felt him strangely close by as though his hand rested on my back. ‘You were the best big brother ever. I miss you. I promise to try and be as kind as you were to everyone I meet. Have a wonderful Christmas.’

Mum’s face was drenched with tears. She smiled through them, jigging Ollie on her hip, and shared a memory about the time Noah tried to save a cat who kept climbing back up the same tree. The cat didn’t seem to want to be saved. Finally, Noah got so annoyed, he flung his hands in the air and told the cat to get down by himself. Then he saw that the cat could jump onto the ledge of a wall nearby. 

‘Well then…’ Dad patted his knees.

‘No, wait.’ Mum shook her head and handed Ollie to Dad. ‘When your brother was inside my tummy, the doctors said that it might be better for him to go to heaven a little early because he was going to be poorly when he was born.’ Tears fell down her cheeks. She swiped them away and smiled. ‘But we told the doctors that we’d look after him even if he was. We wanted to meet our little boy before he went to heaven. We already loved him so much. And do you know what?’

‘What?’ Finn leaned in.

‘He was born perfectly healthy and happy, and we had sixteen wonderful years getting to know the beautiful boy that God had made him.’ Mum’s blue eyes, the same as Noah’s, rested on each one of us. ‘Always choose faith over fear.’

‘He did go to heaven too early though,’ I said quietly.

‘Yes, darling,’ she squeezed my hand, ‘but he brought people a lot of joy. Including all of us. We don’t know why the accident happened, but we do know that his life had purpose, and it was precious.’

At that moment, before the rest of the family walked through the door, a radiant rainbow arched through the sky, warming the canvas with pops of colour: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.

We held hands as a family, staring at the promise.

We love you, Noah.