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Memory of My Baby Boy, Michael Anthony
November 13, 1995~~June 30, 1998

This is not a story of sadness, and please shed no tears. But smile for the love that you have in your heart. This story is one of hope. Hope that acts of kindness and love will spread and together we can spread a smile across America.

Please allow song to load completely. It takes a while to load, but definitely worth hearing. One of my very dear friends wrote the lyrics and music to the very beautiful song. Thank You, Leslie, from the bottom of my heart.

When I kissed my son goodnight and gave him bear hugs and said “ROAR,” I said to him, “I love you with all my heart, Baby.” He said to me, “I love you with all my heart, Mommy.” Then he smiled and rested his beautiful head on his pillow.

That was the last time I saw my baby alive. He had gotten out through a doggy door and wandered out to the back patio where his favorite car was. There were no lights on and we can only guess as to the time this happened; everyone in the house was asleep. I can only guess what his next few moves were, and as I guess, I imagine that he was backing up his little car and fell backwards into the swimming pool. Attempts to revive him failed and my son drowned. My son did know how to swim because that is something that I taught him; though they spoke nothing of that on the news. I was awoken to terror. The next thing I know I was kneeling over my son's lifeless body on the cooling deck. That nightmare began June 30, 1998. Remnants of that will remain for the rest of my life. In memory of my son, I would like to spread this story around the nation in hopes that we can find love in our hearts if only for a moment and to lessen the hatred that this world is so full of. Some of us already know from experience life is much too short for hate; for some….even shorter.

Here is Michael's Story:
Prior to my son's death, I would take him to the park on a daily basis. We would feed the “duckies” and then feed a homeless man and give him something to drink. I was trying to teach my son that no matter who you are, you deserve to be loved and to be treated like a human at the very least. I would never speak to him; we would leave the food and leave. Just because he was homeless didn't make him any less deserving of the basic needs of life. We would play soccer in the fields and play in the playground. He would love to chase the pigeons and make them fly. His life was one full of laughter and love. I was blessed with my angel. He has taught me to love, and his purpose was fulfilled. His time was short. But in that time, he affected each soul he came across with a simple smile that he easily gave and that was easily reflected.

On days when he would wear pants with pockets, I would give him pennies for those pockets. We would find a water fountain to throw them in and make wishes or he would just throw them in the pond where the “duckies” were.

He would say to me, “Mommy….pockets?”
Then I would say, “Yes, Baby, pockets,” and within a second, he would look at me again with the smile of an angel and say, “Pennies?”

Then I would say, “Yes, Baby, pennies.” Then I would give him pennies for each of his pockets. And we would go on with our day.

When he passed away, I experienced one of the hardest things in life for a mother…deciding which outfit to put on my child for burial. How do you decide something like that? How do you ever prepare for such a decision? A mother shouldn't outlive her child.

After a great deal of thought, I chose the most appropriate outfit…overalls that had a bazillion pockets on it. I placed pennies in each of his pockets. His body was surrounded by handfuls and handfuls of pennies. When he got to heaven, he would have more than enough to give and to share with others.

I would visit his grave, not ever realizing this cemetery had business hours…business hours?!!! I found this out the hard way and was extremely upset. I figured there was only one other place to go to mourn him: his favorite spot to go–the park with the “duckies” and the homeless man.

When I reached the park, I immediately searched for the homeless man. I brought with me no food and no drink…only love. I approached him and said, “Hello, I know you know me.”

He said, “Yes, I do.”
Then I said, “And I know you know my son.” I showed him a recent picture, one that now lies sealed on his Grave marker.
The homeless man looked up and said, “Yes, I do, he's very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I responded, “he passed away last week,” with tears in my eyes.
He said, “I'm very sorry to hear that.”
I said, “Thank you, but I wanted to come here to tell you something. We didn't come here and feed you because I felt sorry for you or because I had pity on you. We did that because I was trying to teach my son to love others. No matter who you are or what your life has given you, you are a person; you are a human being. You deserve love just like the rest of us. No matter how little I may think I have in life, someone always has less.”

He smiled and said, “Thank you, again, I'm sorry to hear that about your son.” And I smiled and walked away.
This conversation was between myself and a homeless man. A man that society deemed “useless” and “crazy.” Society can be so cruel at times. It's no wonder my son didn't stay long, his heart was too big for the hatred that he would witness. He didn't belong here.

I went to a payphone to call home because I know they were worried. I was on a severe suicide watch. When I picked up the phone, there was nothing on the little shelf beneath it. When I turned around and hung up the phone, there sat 2 shiny pennies…left from who I believe to be my son, my angel, Michael Anthony. Some of you may think I'm crazy or delusional. That is OK. You may think what you wish of my existence.

Just know there is an Angel boy named Michael Anthony that still makes wishes with those pennies. He continues to leave me pennies…pennies from Michael…pennies from Heaven…pennies of Love. I believed it then and I believe it today.

I am not ashamed to say that I ended up hospitalized because I couldn't find a way to cope with my son's death. I attempted to end my life on several occasions, obviously without success. My job here is not finished. I now believe my job to be to spread love. Make others see just how easy it is to love and how much better a soul one will have.

Just think. If all we are required to learn here is how to give and receive love equally, why must we make life so complicated? Once we learn the lesson of love, we may then move on. Knowing this, would it not seem logical to love as much as you can. We are surrounded by love, but how much do we see?

When I was in the hospital, I waited for a sign from my son. I went up to the nurses' desk to take my medications after several had already been up there. What do you think I found as I looked down on the floor? I found a penny from Michael…a penny from Heaven…a penny of Love. He was telling me that I was going to be OK. I knew instantly I was OK. I smiled.

Shortly thereafter, I was discharged from the hospital. Smiling. I had a job to do. And I vowed to my son that I would spend the rest of my life teaching love.

I hand pennies out and tell people this story in hopes that they will see that there is still love in this world. They smile. They learn. All I ask in return is that they pass this story on to someone else. In time, my hope is that the entire country will learn this lesson of love, in memory of my son, Michael Anthony.

I will pass someone and I will hear them say, “pick up that penny, don't you know it's a penny from Michael…pennies from Heaven…pennies of love?”

I ask you now. How much would you do for your child or loved one in order to have his legend live on?

Thank you very much. And know that the next time you find a penny, you have an angel watching over you. Michael…an angel of Heaven…an angel of Love.

Also: Please take the pennies you find and save them. June 30th, the anniversary of my son's death, please take these pennies and hand them out along with this story, and just smile, you will feel so much happiness knowing that you have put a smile on someone else's face and maybe brightened up what might otherwise have been a miserable day. Maybe I'm dreaming but I would like to think that millions will be passing out pennies and remembering not only my son, but all the other angels that have passed on before us.

From the bottom of our hearts, My Angel, Michael and I thank you.

Email me at:
Ccmac1998@aol.com
Michael Anthony's Mommy
I love you with all my heart, Baby Boy Michael.