Yesterday I was in the doctor's office waiting room when I came across the story of the poor 2-year-old in Orlando. I'd been sorrowfully following the story so when I saw that his body had been found it hit me pretty hard. Here I was in a public waiting area, reading an article about a child I did not personally know, yet my eyes filled with tears. My throat ached, my heart clinched, and hot tears escaped from the corners of my eye. Why?
It did not matter that this child was a stranger, that I had never met him or his parents. When the story broke my mommy heart broke. When I placed myself in the horrific possibility of that situation my human, empathetic heart ached for the loss of a precious, irreplaceable baby boy.
As the story initially began to break and make its rounds on the internet folks came out of the woodwork with opinions. These keyboard warriors, these pinnacles of picture perfect people made snap judgements and thoughtless comments concerning the actions of poor parents who were still in remorseful shell shock from such a horrendous, unexpected event.
This is unacceptable. It is inexcusable to me that cruel individuals would somehow find it appropriate or even useful to speak such vehement waste of words in the face of grief that cannot be undone. But as I thought about it last night I realized they were powerless, and I was pleased to discover that their petty mumbling paled in the shadows of what happened next.
From stage left and stage right swooped in citizens by the plenty quick to stand up tall and firm in defense of the grieving parents. Strangers across the country took to their own keypads and keyboards to speak encouragement, support, solidarity, and kindness for a hurting mom and dad.
Angry mothers everywhere came out swiftly to condemn anyone who uttered a harsh word about this couple from Nebraska, and authors and writers began to pen caring blogs and uplifting articles all in support of a child's life lost. It wasn't about whether Disney was liable or that parents should be more watchful around water with warning signage. In the end it was about a 2-year-old who had left this earth too soon and the hurting parents he had left behind. It was about admitting it could as easily be you. And in the end that is what the majority of cyberspace saw. They saw hurt and pain, and they came in quickly to console, to empathize, and to pray.
This world is a horrible place; I'll be the first to admit that. But then it's not. Good people still exist on this planet. Caring, kind, sympathetic defenders of the weak. They are here.
They are the ones who start GoFundMe pages for a sick friend, bring casseroles to a grieving family, or get down on their knees in hardcore intercession for hurting hearts. They are the ones who defend those who are too broken to defend themselves, and they stand up for doing what is right.
At the end of the day I was proud of humanity. Are grieving parents still reeling from the loss of their own? Of course. But I would hope that one day they could be proud in some small way for how their precious baby boy brought out the very best in human's hearts as he departed this earth. I know I was.
Originally posted on http://briegowen.com/