There was an article in the paper this morning about a 5-year-old girl who died in Toronto.  Camila Torcato was “a cancer survivor who was killed by a driverless, runaway SUV at St. Raphael Catholic School … A second or two earlier or later and the SUV would have either missed the little girl or she would have been safely inside her dad’s vehicle.”

How can this be?  What forces are at work in the world so that I get to have a fulfilling life, and potentially a long one?  Why have I experienced the sweetness of romantic love, the thrill of cycling long distances and the softness of Caribbean beaches while this little girl has not?

Will she be back in another body to do this life business again, this time culminating in her grandchildren gathered around her?  Or was this it for her, her one and only time to shine in the sun?  Endless words have been written on these subjects but the truth is … I don’t know.

I’m a happy and peaceful person.  Bad stuff still happens but my peace is bigger than all that.  But what about all those blank faces I see on the Toronto subway?  I’m guessing that many of the souls lying within the bodies are wounded.  Why is my experience of life so different from that?  Sure, a huge part of happiness is the attitude we bring to the table but sometimes the world is full of unhittable curve balls.  Why have so many folks faced challenges that I’ll never know?

Should I feel guilty about my long life or the cards that I’ve been dealt?  No.  But I’m sad that Camila, and many other human beings, haven’t been offered the gifts that I have.  There is so much pain in the world and often I just cry about it all.

Still, the crying needs to stop at some point.  I will continue to feel deeply the sadnesses around me and in me … and then lift my head and walk on.  Because the next human being on my path needs my full presence, my brimming heart.  It’s what I can do.  It’s what I will do.