ORLANDO SENTINEL



ORLANDO SENTINEL
ORLANDO, Fla. -- This is the story of a plate.
It's not much, as sacred objects go.
The white dinner plate has a child's picture of a green figure straddling a patch of green grass under the rays of a yellow sun. Nearby, in neat brown capitals, are the words "FROM CHARLIE."
Those whose lives have been touched by the plate call it a balm for wounds, a message of hope, and a miracle.
On Sept. 22, 1982, Charlie Dillard of St. Cloud, Fla., was 3 years old. He became sick and was diagnosed with a brain tumor. It's also the birthday of his mother, Carol Dillard.
Doctors at Orlando Regional Medical Center delivered the news in the evening.
While his mother let the news sink in, Charlie colored. Staffers had asked the children in the ward to draw pictures, Dillard recalls. They said they planned to transfer the drawings to items and sell them to raise money for a children's cancer foundation.
Charlie colored a green man and a yellow sun. He was too sick to do more. He asked his mom to sign the picture for him. She wrote "FROM CHARLIE" in neat brown handwriting.
Nurses took the drawing away. Dillard never saw the paper again and forgot about it.
'Rescued'
Around 1991, Kathleen "Kitty" Starling, of Kissimmee, Fla., drove to a flea market.
She saw a white plate. Scribbled on the surface was green grass, a yellow sun and "FROM CHARLIE."
"I thought that was sort of an odd way for a little child to sign a drawing," she said. "I felt this need to rescue the plate."
The plate came home with Starling. It held a cherished spot in the cabinet. Her family discussed the plate. They'd wonder who Charlie was. Where did he live? What was he doing, right now?
Charlie's childhood
Charlie spent his childhood in and out of the hospital.
"He had brain surgery, radiation, strokes," Dillard recalls.
Charlie never learned how to read and write, play baseball or ride a two-wheel bike.
He was 18 in 1998, and took a turn for the worse. Charlie couldn't stand, walk, eat or control bodily functions. Doctors couldn't diagnose the problem and told his family he had three to six months to live.
The Dillards watched Charlie. One day, his big sister Leanne took over and his parents went out for a ride. They happened upon Starling's garage sale.
Conversation
Starling doesn't know the date but remembers it was "the wrong day. We were supposed to have a garage sale the day before but some family emergency came up."
Dillard and Starling began a conversation. Dillard said her boy's battle for life appeared to be ending.
"I think she actually used the phrase 'at any moment.' She was terribly, terribly upset," Starling recalls. "She started telling me how precious Charlie was to her, and she just didn't know what she'd do without him. He was so wonderful and appreciative and loved her so much. How he always gave her a goodnight kiss and held her hand and told her she was such a wonderful, sweet mother and how he loved to do things for her and wished he could do more."
Starling was touched. The Dillards turned to leave.
"I don't know why, but all of a sudden I just thought 'My goodness, I have a plate inside that says Charlie."'
Charlie's plate wasn't for sale. Suddenly, Starling wanted the Dillards to have it.
"Come back," she yelled. "I have something I want to give you!"
The couple stopped. Starling darted inside and came out with the plate.
"I said I hoped they didn't think I was strange for offering them this plate that says 'FROM CHARLIE,'" Starling said. "But I knew their Charlie would have made it for them if he could."
Carol Dillard couldn't speak.
"My knees went," she remembers.
It was, of course, the picture Charlie drew that day long ago in the hospital.
Condition improves
Seeing that picture on a plate in her hands gave Carol Dillard hope. That's when things began to change. A specialist found the cause of Charlie's turn for the worse and corrected the problem. He returned to normal.
"I think that plate was my greeting card from God, telling me he was going to be OK," Dillard marvels.
In exchange for the plate, Dillard gave Starling a photograph of Charlie.
"I still have that picture up on my refrigerator, with all the grandchildren's pictures," Starling says. "When someone new comes over ... I tell them the story of Charlie's plate."
Some have written off the story to coincidence but the two women involved see the hand of God.
The plate has a place of honor now on the Wurlitzer piano in the Dillard home.
Tremendous faith
Charlie spends his days in a nearby recliner. He still enjoys coloring. He has a book of Bible scenes.
"I like coloring angels," he says. "It soothes me."
Years of illness have taken their toll, doctors have said. Charlie's brain, in essence, is dying. Last month, Charlie began receiving hospice care.
"All they tell me is that his disease is going to culminate in him losing his life," Carol says. "But they don't know how long."
Charlie's grandmother, Marie Hooker of Satsuma, said, "Charlie himself has tremendous faith. He says, 'Grandma, I can't wait to go to gory."'
He says he can't wait to meet Jesus -- and Elvis.
"Charlie is my hero," his grandmother says. "With all he has suffered, he has never once said, 'Why me?'"
"The sun is always shining in Charlie's life," adds his mother. "I don't know what it is, he has such pain, but he's the most positive person I've ever met."
Dillard hopes for a miracle. She's looking for another sign that's going to tell her everything will be all right.
She says, "it could be anywhere."