He was a giant of a man, with an angelic wingspread that was tremendous. At first, St. Peter didn’t even hear that little knocking noise at the massive golden gate. He just went on whistling and writing.

But then there was a knocking again, and this time Peter paid attention. He looked over at the gate, glanced down at his appointment schedule and saw that no one was expected. So he assumed that the noise was just some heavenly breeze or just some passerby on his way to another place.

But the knock came again, and Peter rose and went to the massive entrance, took out his golden key and opened the gate just a little way. At first he didn’t see anything, except an endless expanse of royal blue sky and those billowy, snowy clouds. But just as he was about to close the gate, he looked down and there, almost covered over by a passing cloud, was a little boy. He had on raggedy clothes and he was grimy from head to foot, and he was so small, and Peter was so big that when the little fellow saw those enormous hands and shoulders and those incredible wings, he just started to tremble and he couldn’t speak.

Well you just had to know St. Peter. He was the size of a mountain, but was a pushover for kids. So he stooped down as low as he could and reached out to the little boy and took one grimy little hand in his and said, “I guess I sort of frightened you when I opened the big gate. My name is Peter, and I’m a kind of door man here. Is there anything I can do for you?” In a quavering voice the boy said, “I don’t know sir. When I got here, this was the only gate I could find, so I decided to knock. I didn’t mean to trouble you.” Peter said, “Well I think you did the right thing...what’s you name?"

Then there was a pause. “Don’t be shy”, said Peter, “You can tell me your name.” “I don’t know sir”, said the little boy, “I can’t remember”. Peter didn’t know what to make of this. Everybody’s got a name. “I guess I had a name, but I can’t remember”, said the boy. “I was in this place called London, a very big city, and all I can remember for the longest time was being very cold and very hungry.” “Where did you live?” asked Peter. “No place In particular. I didn’t have anybody to look after me, at least since I can remember. There were some other children there just like me.....that I can remember.”

“Well”, said Peter, looking again at his book, “we didn’t really expect anyone today.” the boy quickly replied, “I really didn’t expect it either; I just remember being very cold, and I went down to the bridge by the river to try to get out of the wind, and while I was trying to find a place that was a little less cold, I just went to sleep. The next thing I know, here I was.”

Peter said, “I’m not too surprised you’re here, and I imagine that the highest authority around here knows something about this, but we’ve got to have some record, and since you don’t have a name, I’ll just put you down as Anonymous.” “Anony-who? “Said the boy. “Anonymous”, said Peter, “that means without a name. We’ll just call you Anonymous.”