Proof The Bible Is True

Daylight was just spreading across the horizon. My best friend, Jennifer, and I stood on the beach, gazing out at the ocean. It was our last day on Maui—we had a plane to catch in a few hours. But I was glad we’d gotten up early for one last breathtaking view, a visit to a mysterious spot I’d heard about from our hotel’s cultural advisor, Clifford, the night before. A place called Makalua-puna Point.

 

“I don’t want to leave,” Jennifer said. I didn’t either. Hawaii felt like heaven. Even more than I’d imagined it would when Maui’s tourism board invited me to visit and write about my experiences. It was the best assignment a freelance travel writer could ask for, a business trip that didn’t feel like business.

 

Jennifer was here for a different reason. She’d just lost her other best friend—Bandit, her black Labrador retriever. I still remembered the day she got him as a puppy, back when the two of us were in high school. A little bundle of fur with oversized paws. We three grew up together.

 

I couldn’t visit Jennifer without expecting her big black dog to come bounding up to me, wagging his tail for all he was worth. I knew how heartbroken she was to lose him. “I wasn’t even with him when he died,” Jennifer had told me over the phone. “I was at work when it happened. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

 

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