Tragedy

Doesn’t it seem like there has been too much tragedy lately. I mean, even just with the amount of train accidents there have been in the last two months. Have you been watching the news? Those alone are almost more than I can really handle.

Then there was this week’s tragedy on I-80 where the mother and two children were killed when their van slid off the highway and submerged into an icy river. They were survived by their father who was taking care of their other child, a son who received severe burns the week before and was in the Burn Center at the U. I saw the story on the news and the desperation in his eyes. He hadn’t even told his son what had happened. He said he just didn’t know how to do it. I’m sure I wouldn’t either. Sad.

How can these things happen? It’s just not right.

Then there was today.

I have been working for several years with a Migrant Headstart Preschool Center collecting items and connecting them with people and resources that bring some relief to struggling families trying to build a new and better life in Utah. Working with them has brought me a lot of joy.

This year, I was able to connect them with an opportunity to receive an unbelievable amount of money. Alyssa’s former preschool teacher, who has helped me collect new packs of socks and underwear in the past, has a son who is a student body officer at Riverton High School. The high schooler’s there are known for their Christmas generosity and amazing fundraising ability.

Each year the student body raises more money than the last. Last year they raised over $80,000. Yes, Eighty THOUSAND dollars. Said student body officer remembered his mom had helped this preschool and nominated them to be the recipient of the money from this year’s money drive. The school I have been working with was one of six charities that nominated for the money.

My friends at the Centro de la Familia jumped at the opportunity and prepared a moving presentation about the organization and the families they support. I attended the presentation and must admit that I sobbed through the entire presentation. It was a little embarrassing. I was not prepared, even after working with them for several years, for the poverty and sadness of some of the family’s life circumstances.

We waited and waited to hear from the High School to see if we had been selected and dreamed of how a sum like that could work to perpetually support these families for years and years. Weeks went by with no word. Finally I did hear through the grapevine that letters had been sent to each charity. Several more weeks went by and Centro de la Familia never got a letter. At this point we figured that we had not been selected, but were still baffled as to why no one had ever contacted us to let us (and by us I mean them) know.

Part of me still clinged to hope that maybe the student body officers would march into the preschool unannounced Publisher Clearinghouse style with balloons and everything and present them with a giant check for $80,000.

Today I finally broke down and hunted down the mother of student body officer who had nominated us in the first place (Alyssa’s former teacher) to see if she knew anything. She reluctantly told me that The Christmas Box House had been the recipient of the money this year. Despite my vain imaginations, I really already knew that it wasn’t their money, but it still made me sad. She also said that it was really close between the Christmas Box house and this preschool. She told me that they wanted them to apply next year and maybe they would get it then.

You might think that’s the tragedy I am talking about, but it’s not. I called the school after I found out the news to put them out of their misery waiting for an answer. Amanda, the family needs specialist, who I have been working with a lot, answered the phone which is really unusual.

I chit-chatted with her for a minute and finally got brave enough to break the news. She was disappointed, maybe even a little mad about it. Not that they were counting on the money, but still. It’s disappointing to come so close to something big and not get it.

I asked to speak to the director Tom who I have also gotten to know as I have been working on the project this year. He is such a delightful, caring, compassionate man. The moment I met him he made me feel so comfortable and like I had known him for years. We found that we had friends in common and really struck up a good friendship in our united effort to bring relief to these families.

Anyway…Tom was not there. Amanda asked me if I hadn’t heard. About what? I had not heard anything. Then she proceeded to tell me that Tom’s wife, the mother of his six children ranging in ages form five to 18, passed away suddenly last week. She apparently had a stomach ache and stayed home to rest. When Tom got home from work he found her in bed, but it was already too late.

That’s the last tragedy I can really process for the rest of 2011. Enough sad things have happened now.

I really just can’t bring myself to understand how a mother of six kids can just die. Tom has five sons and one daughter. Well, I have five brothers and I am telling you, we just couldn’t have made it without our mother. And I know for a fact that my kids could not make it without me, not to even mention Steve. I cannot imagine his world without me. We’re crazy about each other in case you’ve never noticed.

Plus, I remember being five-years-old and sitting at the breakfast table watching my brothers run out to catch the school bus after mom had got us all out of bed, dressed, fed, hair combed and out the door.

I remember throwing up in the middle of the night and my mother holding my head over the toilet, keeping my hair out of my face.

My mother made me a book bag on my first day of Kindergarten.

My mother told me that someday someone would want to marry me when I was 25 and I was sure no one ever would.

My mother was there when my first child was born.

How can these six children just one day have a mother and the next day, she’s gone.

I cried all day long about this. I bet you’re crying now too.

The whole reason I have been helping this school is because I want to do everything I can easily do to ease human suffering, even if it’s just a little bit. Now, there is this whole other arm of suffering that I can do nothing about. Sad. Helpless.

It’s just so sad. It couldn’t happen to nicer people. Someone who lives their life to help underprivileged people? Really?!? Shouldn’t there be some kind of invisible force-field protecting these kind of people?

I mentioned that I cried all day about it, but I did have one peaceful moment, actually two peaceful moments that I am kind of clinging to right now.

I took a shower in the middle of the day which is unusual for me. As I was fixing myself up, I was shamelessly listening to fm100 because I start listening to Christmas music as soon as it’s available (don’t judge me), and because I mostly listen to fm100 year round anyway. Anyway…the Jewel version of Silent Night came on the radio.

“Silent night Holy night. All is calm, all is bright…” You know how it goes. Well right then, I was completely calmed. Maybe for the first time in my life, I really felt like I had a reason to celebrate the birth of my Savior.

About an hour later I heard this on the radio… “Joy to the world the Lord is come, let earth receive her King.” Again then, I felt it again. This time again I felt the same stillness and sense of relief.

I have always celebrated Jesus’s birth, I mean, it’s the most wonderful time of the year, right? But I have never really, really thought about it.

I don’t consider myself to be a major sinner. I'm probably just an average sinner. No one is perfect right? I know that Jesus was born for us, suffered for our sins and then died for us and was then resurrected. I know all this. I even know how and why it applies to me.

But today I felt DESPARATE for a Savior. Maybe for the first time. Not because I wanted to be saved from sin, but because I felt so desperate to help this family be reunited with their mother and wife.

I’ve done a lot of little things to help a lot of people, but I can’t do this for them. But I know someone who can and already did. I think I have forgotten about how awesome the whole resurrection part of the Atonement is. Especially in a “died too young” situation.

My own mortality has been on my mind a lot today. If this tragedy can strike them what’s to say it couldn’t happen to me. That thought makes me feel desperate for security.

So today I am clinging to my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and his teachings and his gospel and his covenants and his promised blessings. The alternative is pretty bleak.

The other thing I can do is help. Help everyone. Help connect people with what they need. Sure, I can do that. Even if that thing is helping them get new underwear or socks. I can do that.

I guess He’s promised us a lot of things, so I’m just going to keep doing it, because I need him to have mercy on me when I die. Not just because I am an average sinner but because I just really NEED to be with my family forever and I NEED to know that everyone else will be too. I just can't be happy when I know others are miserable. It just can’t all end when someone dies. Especially if they die early.

Joy to the world, it doesn’t end when you die. What a great time to celebrate the birth of the Savior.

Merry Christmas.

If you'd like to help with Operation Undies which supports this Migrant Headstart Preschool and after school program, let me know. I'm always looking for donations.