"Reflections of Michael"
September 1, 1991-November 13, 2003
By
David Chaltas

It is with great sadness and the deepest sense of sorrow that I must report the loss of our gallant little warrior. He loved listening to the tales of yesteryear and was so proud of his own ancestry. We would talk for hours about the Great Conflict and he would always interject a dragon or magical spell that could have won the battle for the boys in gray. Michael Alan Wright succumbed to the will of our Lord on November 13, 2003 at 7:00 P.M while at the University of Pittsburgh Children's Hospital. He was 12 years, 2 months and 11 days of age at the time of his passing. His little heart could not sustain his 12-year-old body and he was too weak to undergo the desperately needed transplant. His final battle began while being flown from UK to Pittsburgh. The family wishes to convey their heartfelt gratitude by the national outpouring of prayers for this wonderful little boy. As his homebound instructor for over 4 years, I too offer my gratitude and humble myself at the foot of our Lord in submission to His Divine Will. We just completed the work on his book entitled, "The Crystal Dragon" and I shall do all I can to get it published as he so desired. We must accept that our loving God heard the petition of the people but needed a beautiful flower for his garden. Though young Michael walks the earth no more, I know that he is running upon the wind in the Fields of Glory with the joy & freedom that eluded him while he was amongst us. Please pray that the Comforter will surround those left behind and shield them from the ravages of their loss.

When asked by the family to write a poem about Michael, I wondered what I could say to capture the essence of this special child? Should I tell of our many talks about dragons or how excited he got when I brought him a gift? Should I share the time he beat me in four moves in chess or the time I made him cry when I talked about death? Should I tell of his warrior's heart and how he never complained to me about how bad he felt or how he would ask me if his fingers were turning blue? Could I mention how generous he was and if he had money for a snack, he would always offer to buy me something first? Should I explain that he had such a vivid imagination that I was often amazed as to his intelligence? Do I speak of his innocence and great sense of humor? Should I tell of the numerous times he would hide from me and whenever I "gave up" the search for him he would come out in childhood delight? Do I state that he was always so well mannered, so likeable and easy going with his friends? Should I talk of his trip to Rupp Arena on June 9, 2001 when he met the Backstreet Boys, and how he glowed whenever he talked of that wondrous day in June? Do I share the time when we walked to the Pet Store and he had to stop three times to catch his breath and when he saw the worried look on my brow he attempted to reassure me? Would they want to hear of how he loved to listen to me read about dragons, the Jack Tales and stories of the War Between the States and then afterwards answer every question with such in-depth understanding? Would they understand his sense of pride when he saw his teacher wearing the uniform that made him look like General Lee? Is this the time that I reflect upon our last conversation prior to the flight to Pittsburgh when at 9:15 I called him and expressed how "jealous" I was that he was going to fly all the way to Pittsburgh and I had to drive and immediately yet humorously he replied, "Wanna trade places?" Should I dare say that he would get upset when trying to read and at times I would also become upset due to his lack of effort? What should I say that would offer comfort? Where are the words? Then by divine revelation it came upon my being that I need not say anything about him, for those who truly knew him already understood the greatness of this child. I need only say that I loved him as a son and will sorely miss his dancing eyes, quick wit, and wondrous spirit that I know now entertains our gracious loving God. To me he seems a hero.

The poem that I entitled "Little Sparrow" brings to play Michael's dreams of running and playing like other children. It shares his world of imaginings: a world where he could do magical things and possessed those abilities that he longed for. It talks of his undampened spirit that lit up the room with its radiance. It expresses the faith in the promise of a better tomorrow and knowledge that as the sparrow received new wings, Michael has a new heart; and a star shoots to the heavens to proclaim another angel is coming home.

I do remain your humbled servant,

The Old General

"Little Sparrow"
November 14, 2003

His little wings were broken:
He could not learn to fly.
His fears were never spoken.
You never heard him cry.


He had a Crystal Dragon
That shielded him from harm.
And with its huge tail wagging,
It kept him safe and warm.


The dragon granted wishes.
He rode upon its back.
It showered him with kisses
And placed them in his pack.

The tiny little sparrow
Soon learned to walk the wind.
Though facing many perils,
He'd always seem to win.


His spirit was uplifting.
His smile would hide the sun!
But slowly he was drifting.
His journey had begun.


How swiftly he has faded!
Oh, how we loathe to mourn.
But his wings were created:
Another angel's born!


So go fly little sparrow!
Your wings had been restored.
Go fly straight and narrow
While dancing for the Lord.

"He has his Wings!"


"By faith we are conquerors of all things and hold within our hearts a promise of tomorrow."