Interesting things happen when you take walks...

I was headed to watch the waves for a little bit, and my path took me through some neighborhoods. As I came 'round a corner, this large bright-colored SOMEthing caught me eye. A "Little Mermaid" poster was pinned to a lightpost, with two fluorescent umbrellas above it.

Below was a finger-painted depiction of clouds floating in the sky over a bed of flowers. Why is this on a lightpost?

Compelled by curiosity, I cross the street. The bottom of the fingerpainting was signed "The 1st grade classroom. We will miss you, India!" India? Then I come around to the other side of the post, and I see India. Her picture was in the center of another posterboard, with dates below it that say "2007-2011," followed by an invitation to her funeral. Wow.

Here, in the middle of suburban Solana Beach, was an incredibly tragic story! There was no information on how it happened, whether by sickness or accident, just a little monument of memorabilia. In front was a pint-sized chair and several vases of flowers. It really wasn't any of my business, I didn't know these people; but it stopped me in my tracks. I found myself scanning the posterboards, looking for some indication that the parents were taking it okay. Is that snooping or is it compassion? Either way, I found what I was looking for. The funeral invitation was really sweet: "we were given 4 years of bright eyes and joy..." They asked for people to wear colorful things to the funeral, especially mismatching socks, 'cause India liked them.

Amidst waves of emotion, I started to think about my own reaction. It brought to mind things from my reading lately that say certain times in life bring us to think about God and the infinite. I think this definitely qualifies as an example. Some would see this as "not fair!", seeking an all-powerful God in order to blame him. Because of my own upbringing, I thought about innocence and heaven. It reminded me of when my cousin passed away, and how the only thing that consoled our family was the idea of her being in Heaven. It seems that in the face of a tragedy like this, the only "humane" way to understand the event, the only way that allows for an acceptance and healing is the response of faith & hope.

The author I'm reading currently had been pulled away from God by complex "purely reasonable" philosophical systems. He was virtually an athiest until the day his mother died. He was very close to her, she was very close to God, and when confronted with the tragedy, he said "I wept, and I believed."

At that point, I stopped pondering, and realized that I was still a stranger at the end of some family's driveway, and that I really should move on. Feeling very awkward all of a sudden, I turned to go. But the dates of her life caught my eye one last time, and almost knocked me over.

Turns out India and I actually have something in common: she was born on June 18th.

I prayed a lot for India and her family during mass today.