Playing with the angels...

If you've seen any of my status updates on twitter or facebook over the last couple of weeks, you know that I have been following the story of a little girl named Layla Grace, who up until this morning was fighting stage 4 neuroblastoma.

This afternoon I found out that sweet little Layla Grace "went to play with the angels" early this morning. When you say it that way, it almost makes your smile. Almost. There is still something fundamentally wrong about a child dying of cancer. It isn't right.

Although I don't know Layla Grace or the Marsh family, although I will probably never meet them, I (like so many others) am profoundly touched by their story. I look at my girls differently. I look at life differently.

I'm not alone. All it takes is a quick look at the comments on, on her facebook group or twitter and it's obvious that in her short life, Layla Grace has had an impact. She had touched many lives. She has brought many people closer to their families and closer to God. And her story is raising awareness of neuroblastoma and raising funds for important research.

But now what? I want to do more than sit here and tell a few people about a little girl who fought cancer, about a story that brought me to my knees, about a family who lost their baby. I want to do more than send my condolences to the family via twitter or facebook or e-mail. I feel too much. I am too touched by her story. There has to be more I can do. Something more personal.

...Maybe I can find a way to raise money for research? ...Maybe I can find a way to support families who are going through similar situations? ...Maybe... Maybe I should start by finding out what's already being done and go from there.

I don't know... I just feel like if I can be inspired to DO something positive because of Layla Grace's story... that it will somehow "mean something".

That somehow... somehow her story isn't quite over.



Anonymous said...

Quel horreur que de voir son enfant mourir...j ai perdu ma mere l an passé et me suis intellectuellement consolé en me disant qu elle avait 89 ans.j y pense tous les matins en me réveillant...mais la douleur était très vive..en entendant qu il y avait eu un tremblement de Chilie.j ai vécu l enfer pensant que ma fille..mon enfant de 36 ans pouvait etre en train de sympatise avec ce couple qui perdent un etre qui vient de mort est une absurdité que je n accepte pas...c'est trop douleureux ! les prieres ne me consolent pas!Suzanne

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