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Editorial

Around Our Town...Gentle Virtues


Hope


04/01/2006 - The life of a flower begins with one small seed. Its life is beautiful and nothing short of miraculous. So is the life of a child.

Our lives have taken an unexpected turn recently. On Friday night, March 10th, I miscarried at twenty-one weeks. My husband and I held our little son whom we were anticipating holding for the first time in August. Though he was small (16 cm.), he has left a huge impression on us. We were holding a miracle full of many incredible features. His tiny feet with teeny tiny toenails will be forever etched in my mind.

My husband and I have shed countless tears. We feel the weight of sorrow. The only way we have been able to withstand this weight is by holding tightly to the hope in our faith. We are saddened, deeply saddened, but we are not crushed.

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We trust this loss will become a great gain.

During this time we have experienced comfort and love, much of it directly from the precious people of our community.

When I was five, I remember sitting down at a table in my kindergarten class glancing around at the artwork of my peers. We were asked to draw a picture showing what Easter means to us. I shifted a bulky yellow crayon in my hand a fought back tears of frustration. I just drew a nice yellow cross bordered by cheerful green grass and I did not know how to draw a decent figure of Jesus on the cross. (My classmates didn't know either.) I sat there in agony until it occurred to me. "My teacher didn't say Good Friday. She said Easter!" I quickly colored a bright sun on the top of my sheet and ran up to my teacher, Mrs. Swenson. She was startled to see my picture for everyone else was including Jesus on the cross. She came down to my eye level and asked, "Where's Jesus?" With all the courage I could muster I said, "He's not there. He's alive in Heaven." She wrapped her arms around me and replied, "You understand. You truly understand."

This understanding I received by faith as a child has been vitally important for me to understand and cling to now. It has helped me release Paul Nathaniel's temporal body into the ground. I told myself, "He's not there. He's alive in Heaven."

This little guy whom we miss dearly has reminded us of the preciousness of life and how the boundaries of life far exceed our present world.

Once again we are reminded that death is not final. It is an interruption. My mind has a difficult time comprehending it, but my soul, that part of me that will be reunited with Paul is fully aware.

We had a private graveside service. Of the five families who came to support us, three have experineced the loss of dear unborn children. It struck me that I am not alone.

I trust my heart will heal, just as my body is healing now. Part of my healing will come with time and I believe it will partly come by comforting others. With this thought in mind, I have decided to share my heart with you. Maybe there is someone in our community who would be comforted along with us.

I will close with a poem. The beginning words awoke me about 3:00 am the first night after I miscarried. I recognized it as a poem and jotted it down in the dark. It is like a healing balm for my aching heart. May it be a blessing to someone in our community. (See Poet's Corner on page 10)

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