Two friends of mine lost their child on teusday and the funeral was Friday.  I don't think i've ever seen anything as sad as that tiny casket that i passed on my way to Communion.  The mother was so strong though, she has so much faith...it's a faith that didn't even appear really until it was tested by this.

 

They were told only a few months into the pregnancy that the baby (a little girl) would be born mentally and physically deformed, and it was hinted that they should "terminate the pregnancy".  This mother, a woman who had never really even thought about abortion other than that it was "a woman's right to choose" suddenly realized what was being implied: they wanted her to murder her child; she refused.  she knew that she couldn't do it, and rather turned to God for protection and strength, and asked Him to help them deal with whatever happened.

 

The girl was born, and the worst-case scenario that the doctors had projected occurred.  Still, the mother didn't loose faith; instead, it seemed to grow.  She and her husband had the doctors do all they could with therapy and medicine for 3 months, but it was not enough, and the little child returned to her Father in heaven on teusday.

 

At the funeral, most of us were dealing well enough, until it came time to walk up the aisle to receive our Lord.  As we passed the coffin, no more than a foot long, most of us began to cry.  it was so unnatural, seeing one that small.  It's not what we are used to.  A person should grow old, and die after a "full life".  As I returned to my seat, and knelt before the crucifix, i began to think about what a "full life" really is.  is it composed of years, or is it more of praising God, no matter how long we live?  i realized then that this little one had lived a perfect, and therefore "full" life.  With every ounce of her small body, she had lived only to praise God as a creation of His.  She was taken from us too soon, but not so soon that her task on earth wasn't completed.  In fact, it was completed more than most of us can ever hope to complete our own.

 

This fact comforted me.  Even so, i found myself still crying when attempting to find some words of comfort for the mother.  Her strength made up for my tears however.  She thanked me, by name, and managed to say how much it meant to her for me to have been there.  i know God must have been with her, helping her.  The joy of knowing where her daughter must now be had taken into itself the sorrow of the loss.  It doesn't mean that she wasn't sad...she was crying as well.  It means more that in her sadness she had faith, and that faith brought her the strength of God.  I can only hope to one day experience such faith as this mother in her time of loss.