I found out today that one of my high school classmates, someone who happens to be an ex-girlfriend of one of my best friends, was in a horrifically bad car accident a few days ago in Alabama. Now she's in the hospital and they don't know what kind of brain damage she is facing. They won't know for a couple weeks, until the swelling starts to go down inside of her head. She is a beautiful and intelligent woman, and yet I am already thinking of her in the past tense.
On the subway coming home today there was a pregnant woman in a sundress - it snowed today, there was an ice storm - and before she could plead for money in front of a subway car full of strangers, she turned to face the doors to stifle her sobs. It was excruciating. I was listening to "Sometimes you can't make it on your own" by U2 and I nearly lost it. I gave her 12 cents, since I spent the rest of my change buying a coke earlier in the day.
And yet:
A few days ago my friends had a baby girl, Caroline Marie. They are a loving couple and two of the gentlest souls you will meet, and they are one of the best-looking pairs I know. This kid will grow up with love and family and a nice set of genes. I suppose she was born somewhere near the time when the car accident occurred.
How does any of this make sense? How does it balance out?
Pray for all of them, pray for all of us. I hope this feels better in the morning.
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