It is a Sunday afternoon. Everything is peculiarly calm and quiet inside the hospital. Avila walks into the elevator and pushes the button that leads to the third floor, a button she has pressed so many times that she does not even have to make the effort to look at where she places her small finger. She is wearing a simple white dress tied around her waist with a light blue ribbon and a pair of small, matching blue shoes. In one hand, she holds a small bouquet of daisies, while in the other hand, she holds her father’s big, yet gentle hand. 
Avila: (looking up at father) Daddy when do you think that mommy is going to get better?
Father: (seriously forces a smile) I’m sure she will sometime soon.
Avila: Ok daddy. (smiles and looks back down)
The elevator doors open.  Avila races into her mother’s room while her father slowly walks behind her.
Avila: Mommy, I got these for you! Aren’t they pretty? 
Mother: They sure are lovely, but not quite as beautiful as you are.
Avila: (giggles) Daddy and I just went to church today, and I made sure to ask Jesus to help you feel better. Then I said thank you.
Mother: (softly brushes her hands through her daughter’s hair) Thank you, Avila. You know that is the best thing that you can do for me. (makes eye contact with Father who looks at her disapprovingly)
Father: Avila (squats down and looks lovingly into her eyes), why don’t you go get your mother that orange juice you love from the kitchen downstairs? 
Avila: Ok! I’ll be right back!
Father: (shuts the door) Now what exactly do you think you are doing, convincing our daughter that some invisible person is going to make our lives better? Today while we were at church, she told me that everything was going to be okay. She told me not to worry because God loves us and he will take care of us. (angrily) Well, if he loves us so much, why are you here waiting to die?! If he loves us so much, why are we struggling to pay the bills?! Do you really think that a God who loves us would do something like this to us?
Mother: (waiting patiently for Father to finish) I know it’s hard to understand honey, but God is using this as an opportunity for you to learn to have faith in him. Just have a little faith.
Father: This happens to us, and you believe it’s all because God wants me to have faith? Well, forget it, I already have faith. (opens the door to look for Avila to come back with orange juice) Where is Avila anyways? Why is she taking so long?
Mother: She is coming back soon.
Father: I bet you she got distracted, or I bet she went off to get some candy from the vending machine. Getting some orange juice shouldn’t take this long. 
Mother: (starts to get up from her bed) How about if I go down a minute to look for her? 
Father: (walks rapidly toward her and puts his hands in front of her to stop her) No, I won’t let you! You are staying right here in bed where you belong.
Mother: (gets back in her bed slowly) George, when are you going to understand that I need to make the most of the time I still have with you and my precious daughter? I don’t want to be in this lonely hospital anymore. I want to go home, I want to make you and Avila dinner, I want to watch movies with you all…and I want to be the family that we used to be.
Father: (hesitantly replies) We still are the same family that we were, you are just living in a different place. 
Mother: (raises her eyebrows) Really? I can’t believe you have the nerve to tell me that with a straight face. Avila, who is a six-year-old girl, seems to be the only sane one in our family right now.
Avila walks gracefully into the room with a bottle of orange juice and a blue straw.
Avila: Sorry I took so long, the orange juice was in a different place this time. (walks toward her mother and hands her the orange juice) Here mommy. I got you a straw too because it might be easier for you to drink it that way and because blue is your favorite color (smiles innocently).
Mother: Thank you Avila, that is very considerate of you.
Avila walks to her father and takes his hand. Then, she walks over to her mother and takes her hand as she sits up on her mother’s bed. The family is connected by the tiny hands of Avila.
Avila: (looking up to her mother and father) Mommy…Daddy…I know, I know that you can get better because Jesus takes care of us and he loves us. I told that to Daddy this morning at church.
Mother: (looking at her husband and reaching out for his hand) That’s good. Sometimes your father needs those kind of reminders. (squeezes her husband’s hand) Don’t forget to keep reminding him.
Avila: (giggles) I won’t mommy. I won’t forget because I love you, and I love daddy too.