Her name was Samantha...

This morning Wes and I went for a short walk and when we were on our way back we met one of the women from the building that we are getting to know. She was being dropped off by her son and she was carrying a pillow and an overnight bag. We greeted her and walked her into the building together. I thought she looked very tired, but that's not something that one woman tells another!

We unlocked the door and stood for a moment in the foyer when her story came pouring out. Their best friend's nine year old daughter had died unexpectedly the night before. She had a hard time controlling her tears as she spoke.

"She had cerebral palsy" she said "And she suffered a cardiopulmonary arrest, I think that's what they called it..." she took a deep breath as the tears flowed down her face. She began to reminisce, "She flew a kite for the first time this summer. She loved it. The doctors always told her parents that she wouldn't walk, but she did and now she was even flying a kite! My husband and grandson were out in the backyard with her helping her to fly her kite. Oh, how she laughed when her kite went up into the air!"


We stood beside her with tears flowing down our faces as she poured out her heart in between sobs of grief.

"She was such a beautiful little girl. She was their world! Her parents are so broken! The doctor told them that their daughter was clinically dead and that they had to make the decision to take her off of life support. They were so devastated about making that decision." she paused trying to catch her breath, "I was there when they took her off of life support. I felt so helpless. I will never forget that moment as long as I live. The doctor reached over and first turned off the largest machine and then a series of smaller ones and we watched as the machines showed that they were no longer functioning. Those machines were the only thing keeping her alive and the second that the machines were off she was gone. Just like that, her life was over. She was only 9 years old. I have never seen her mother and father so heartbroken. They are our best friends and I stood at the foot of the bed sobbing like a baby, I was no help to them at all!"


"Don't underestimate the power your tears." I said "Sharing their grief through your tears is exactly what a friend would do." I stepped closer and put my arms around her and the floodgates opened up and she wept for the grief that her friends were experiencing and for her own loss. There was no doubt that she loved this little girl so very very much.


As I stepped back she looked at us and said "I have always said that I don't ever want to bury one of my children, I want them to bury me first! I can't even imagine what my friends are going through! Why would God allow this to happen? I just don't understand!" She clutched her pillow like a lost little girl, even though she is a woman of about 50. We realized very quickly that she didn't want any answers, she was venting. "I'm so sorry for unloading on you!" And with a quick goodbye, she wiped her tears away and walked to her apartment.


I asked Wes if we could go the The Light Christian bookstore and buy a sympathy card. I found a card by Max Lucado that talks about how God understands our grief because he also gave his Son to die for us. It was beautifully written and a great witness. We don't know what they believe or don't believe, but we were hoping that it could open a door for conversation. We see this couple a fair bit, so we're praying that we are ready for answers should they come with questions.


I was going to put the card in her door because she said she was going to spend the afternoon with her friends at the funeral home helping them make decisions. I prayed as I walked down the hall and as I turned the corner there she stood. I handed her the card and told her that we were praying for them. She nodded quietly and as the tears began again she walked away clutching the card.


Oh, and the little girl who died...her name was Samantha...


"You've kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights. Each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book." Psalm 56:8 (The Message)

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