No more death please

Nine year old Julie has three close friends at school - R, T, and C. All three of them were at her camping birthday party in June. All three of them were planning to join Julie at tonight's costume party at our church. All week at school, they'd talked about the costumes they'd wear and the fun they'd have. That was until the world changed for little T.

On Thursday, T was pulled out of class by her aunt. Her friends all knew it had something to do with her mom who'd been sick lately, with breast cancer. On Friday morning, the teacher told the class that T's mom had died and T wouldn't be in school for awhile.

Our home is full of sadness again. Julie is our compassionate little girl who does things like buy all her friends and sister (and half the kids in her class) treats at the bake sale at school yesterday, because she wouldn't want to enjoy them alone. Her little heart is broken for her friend. And my heart is broken for both Julie and her friend. Not only does T not have a mom anymore, she doesn't have a dad in the picture either. According to Julie, his departure has something to do with drugs. Unfortunately, we don't know the family enough to know if there's a strong support system around T and her brother and sister. I wish I knew. If not, I wish I could find that little girl, take her into my home, and protect her somehow. But, because T has left her family home and is apparently with her uncle right now, we don't even know where to find her.

I hate it when I know there is a little girl hurting, and Julie would do almost anything to comfort her, and we can do nothing. I tried to phone the school yesterday to see if they had contact information, but by the time I thought of it, the office was closed.

Last night, I crawled into bed with Julie, and we cried and prayed, and cried and prayed some more. It was all we could do. Unfortunately, it didn't feel like enough.