Rental

"I know we only rent the kids from the Lord, but why did He have to take three of mine away from me?" 

I sat in his rec room like I had thousands of times, but this time there was no lively banter. I held his hand.  I hugged him.  I felt his pain.

He lost his daughter to heroin this evening on the Fourth of July.  Two of his sons died ten years ago.

In the midst of his personal hell he asked me if I needed anything--soda, water, tea.  It's so like him to be considerate.

I gently refused and sat in silence.  There are no words that can soothe someone who is in a place beyond hurt.

When I find myself volunteering for a Girl Scout activity I think about touching lives.  Perhaps the inconvenience to me will have a future payoff when a girl is presented with a destructive choice and she has the confidence to refuse because of something she learned from Girl Scouts.

It's idealistic, and hell more than a bit naive, but I have to believe that positives make a difference. 

We as a society have an obligation for these children who have been rented to us. It's not about throwing money at a problem; it's all about the gift of time.

It's about setting an example and giving of yourself.

It's about being a nonjudgmental listener and a nurturer of self esteem. 

It's about being human. 

May she, and all the souls of the departed , rest in peace.

May all those lost in the world of substance abuse and dangerous behavior patterns find the strength to confront their demons.