hushed tone asked a question. “Ma’am, there was a little girl
who fell from a tree. Over there. Two houses down. It was a
really big fall. Do you know if she is ok? In this job, we never
get to find out how the story ends. Is she normal?”
When our girl fell, we had only lived in our new home
for two months. Yasmin did not know us by name on that day
and did not even know which of our daughters had fallen. She
now knows our names but when questioned by the fireman,
she wasn’t sure who fell. “Well, one of the girls plays soccer
and darts around speedily wherever she goes and the other is
our babysitter. So, yes, she is normal.” Follow up questions and
answers reassured this skeptical guy that in fact on that day, the
story had a happy ending. The alternative endings are too
painful for this mother’s heart to dwell upon. It is a relief when
the “what ifs” that ricochet within my mind are quieted.
As this anniversary came and went, I shared my
deepest thoughts and feelings with my spiritual formation
group. In response, a gentle and quiet lady that I barely know
told of a visual often shared by her minister. He speaks of a
ladder that he calls “the thin space between heaven and earth.”
This space was where we resided on that 2014 autumn day.
God reached down as we begged and pleaded upward. No
matter the outcome on that day, I cling to the idea that this
thin space exists for all, come joy or sorrow.
Our family took in deeply and was touched by the care
and concern of the emergency worker who does his job day in
and day out without the gratification, or devastation, of
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