The Devil Wears Pants As well | Part 2

Oliver and Christopher were only two years old when the world changed.

One day, they had a mommy and daddy.

The next day, they didn't.

The grown-ups talked in worried voices. Papers were signed. Decisions were made. Grandparents argued. Half-brothers Jason and Carl wanted nothing to do with them. Everyone seemed busy deciding where the twins belonged.

But nobody noticed that Oliver and Christopher were grieving.

Christopher sat in corners and cried until his little body shook. He missed his parents so much that it hurt. Sometimes he secretly collected small things that belonged to other people. A button. A toy. A pencil. He wasn't trying to be bad. He was terrified of losing things. If he kept them, maybe they couldn't disappear.

Oliver grieved differently.

He buried himself in cartoons, television, his iPad, video games, app games, audiobooks, text-adventure stories, ice cream, candy, and anything else that helped him pretend the pain wasn't there. Sometimes he played with his toys and imagined Mommy and Daddy were still alive.

Anything to escape.

Anything to stop hurting.

One afternoon, Oliver sat on the floor staring at his iPad, floating away into another world.

Then he heard Christopher.

Christopher was crying again.

Really crying.

Oliver looked up.

His brother looked so sad.

For a moment, Oliver forgot about his game.

He crawled over and held out the iPad.

"Hey," he said. "You wanna play with my iPad?"

Christopher sniffled.

Then nodded.

And that was how it started.

After that, Oliver shared everything.

He shared his ice cream.

He shared his toys.

Sometimes he even let Christopher keep them forever.

He showed him funny videos.

He pointed at the screen and shouted, "Look!"

They listened to audiobooks together and got confused together when the stories became complicated.

They ran through sprinklers.

They ate cake together.

They danced together.

They played together.

Every little act was Oliver's way of saying something he didn't have the words for.

I love you.

I'm here.

You're not alone.

And slowly, Christopher began helping Oliver too.

The twins became each other's safe place.

While the adults worried about custody and courts and paperwork, the boys were quietly saving one another.

Far above, God watched.

He saw two grieving little boys holding each other together.

And He knew separating them would only make their wounds deeper.

So when the time came, He allowed them to stay together.

They went to live overseas with a kind aunt named Gertrude.

Gertrude wasn't rich.

She wasn't famous.

But she loved them.

And that was enough.

Years passed.

The boys grew.

They played in parks.

They visited Disneyland and took photographs every year.

They went to birthday parties.

They dressed up for celebrations.

They laughed with friends.

They learned how to smile again.

Sometimes they remembered Mommy and Daddy.

Those were bittersweet memories.

Their parents hadn't been perfect. Their father hadn't always treated their mother well. Their relationship had been complicated.

But they had loved Oliver and Christopher.

And the twins loved them.

So they drew pictures of them.

They filled notebooks with drawings so they would never forget their faces.

Gertrude hung many of those drawings on the walls.

By the time the twins were nine, the house felt like home.

One sunny afternoon, Oliver and Christopher sat in a park playing with a little flute while Gertrude watched nearby.

The grass danced in the wind.

The world felt warm.

Safe.

Happy.

The kind of happy that had taken years to build.

They loved Gertrude more than words could say.

If anyone had asked who they wanted to live with, they would have pointed to her immediately.

Well...

Maybe after God.

When they were toddlers, they had loved pinching His cheeks whenever He visited.

And sometimes He pinched theirs right back.

He never talked much.

Mostly He listened.

Sometimes He cuddled them.

Sometimes He kissed their foreheads.

Sometimes He simply sat with them while they played.

That was enough.

Children remembered kindness.

And they loved Him for it.

Now that they were older, the cheek-pinching phase was mostly over.

Mostly.

And lately something exciting was happening.

God was preparing Gertrude for a special calling as a prophetess.

The twins didn't understand all of it yet.

But they knew it meant they might get to spend more time with Him.

That thought filled them with excitement.

So Oliver and Christopher played their flute beneath the summer sky, laughing beside the aunt they adored, carrying memories of the parents they missed, and looking forward to whatever adventures waited ahead.

And somewhere nearby, God smiled as He watched them play.

To be continued...