On July 13th, a beautiful baby girl was born to my grandson and his wife.  They named her Helen Ashlyn, and she was such a joy to the family.  Both my grandson and his wife are in the army, so his planned third tour of duty in Afghanistan had to be temporarily postponed.  As most young couples do, they were over-joyed about Helen’s birth, but then tragedy struck.  Six days after she was born, they found her unresponsive in her crib.  Our beautiful bundle of joy had passed away.

I have spent the past two weeks wondering why God wanted Helen back so quickly.  She never got to be a little girl playing with her dolls, to be a teenager and dating that special boy, to walk down the aisle in her wedding gown, or to have her own children.  With so much chaos and hatred in the world, why wasn’t Helen given the chance to be a spark of love, to be the change we so desperately need, or to run to her daddy and curl up in his lap?  In the short time she had with us, she brought so much love to our family, making any trivial negativity we had towards one another to fade away.

I struggle with why so many babies die in their cribs in this day and age, when there are so many medical advancements.  It’s said, “When a bell rings, another angel is born.”  In Helen’s case, she was an angel before God called her home.  I firmly believe she’s running around heaven, waiting for her Father to come home, so that she can curl up in His lap.  In my heart and soul, I see her reaching out to all of us and saying, “Let your light shine so that all will know my daddy, my Father.”  There is no act more loving than that.

We are all God’s children, waiting for our Father to call us home, so that we can curl up in His lap and find peace.

Anna Hartt