The epitaph of a daycare worker

The crowd flowed through for hours sharing their condolences with the family, each one with a funny story or a touching memory to share. All it seemed dynamically impacted by the one who's now lifeless body lay before them. To the casual observer it would appear that this was a very important person. 

My memory of her life started in grade school. She was a bit older than me but at the small christian school we attended in rural Southern Indiana I rubbed shoulders with her every day. I recall the countless times she was bullied. Kids teased her about her appearance, her speech, even her name. Children can ofttimes be exceedingly cruel. Even as a young boy I secretly longed to stand up for her, to put a stop to the punishment but I cannot recall ever doing so. As I write this it troubles me still.

She never married and she had no children of her own. She became a daycare worker in her twenties. Not the most glamorous job to say the least. With its little pay and long stressful hours it is so often times a thankless job but not to her.

She was not a beauty contest winner, she was not wealthy in monetary things, She was not a scholastic genius but she loved those kids. 

Then the worst of news, the doctors told her she had cancer, aggressive cancer and it would steal her health. She fought it, she believed for a miracle but her earthly life succumbed to the disease.

Yet somehow through all the challenges she faced, through all the difficulties life had thrown at her, she had managed to do something that I think all of us with any humanity would long to do. Refusing to be marginalized by her circumstances, she lived for a divine purpose by caring and loving kids. She found the destiny for her life and she gave it her all.

Her kiddos loved her, the parents of those children trusted her, her coworkers admired her, all of us that knew her wondered at her resilience and her faith. I know heaven applauded her and welcomed her home.

So I write this to all the people, the struggling, hurting, broken people, the people who feel life has thrown you a curve, the people who do not see their life as important, for all of us with lost dreams and a since of failure, take a lesson from Elizabeth. Live today pouring your life out for others. 

The most successful among us are not always the ones who stand at the front of the line, or that make a lot of money, or get the awards, or have the looks that turn heads. The greatest among us are the ones who find what God really created them for and then they take their life and pour it out for others. 

John 9:35-37
And he sat down, and called the twelve, and saith unto them, If any man desire to be first, the same shall be last of all, and servant of all. And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them: and when he had taken him in his arms, he said unto them, Whosoever shall receive one of such children in my name, receiveth me:

She Has No Defender
Author: Aaron Arrowood

As her tiny fingers stretch into the darkness
She feels the warmth of the atmosphere that swirls around her
She blinks her eyes and swims about
She listens to hear what have become familiar sounds
Her mother’s voice
A home she’s never seen
And a world she’ll never know
Her mind cannot comprehend the looming danger
Her life has no defender
Though she has committed no crime, has offended no one, has done no harm
She is despised
Less then human
She drifts to sleep hearing the beating of her mother’s heart; a sublime symphony that she has grown to love
All seems right in this sanctuary of God’s creation
But this haven will become her sarcophagus
She has nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
She is naked before her executioner
She is defenseless
Sweet dreams are ripped away and her tiny heart knows fear for the first time
As pain engulfs her she would cry
She would scream
She would protest
But no one is listening
She has no defender
She with her soft blonde hair and darting, curious eyes
Is despised, less then human
Less then an animal
She is refuse
She has no defender
Is there anyone that cares for her
Where is her hero
Who will risk life and limb
Who will trade the warmth of a calloused conscience to take up arms in the sodden trenches of moral compulsion
A silent cry rises louder than the weeping of all the fallen soldiers of every war through all of time, and their grieving wives and children too
But reticent saviors are hard to stir as they count the costs and grow more accustomed to the tragedy with each passing moment
While taciturn heroes soothe their own souls
In her mind a melee of terror erupts with no words with which to quantify, comfort, or capitulate
She silently slips into another darkness
Her voice never will be heard
Her story will never be told
No monument will memorialize her tragic and untimely end
She has never known, nor will she ever be
She has no defender

Let us never forget the daily tragedy of legalized abortion. Let us be her defender.
Aaron Arrowood is an author/song writer, professional videographer, pastor and avid cyclist.
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