Losing Samantha; Gaining Compassion

            
             October 3, 2000 seemed just like any other Monday. I was working at Brown's, an independently owned grocery store. My dad came in with Shelby and Colton, my youngest sister and brother, earlier than he usually did on a school day. He approached my register with a somber expression on his face that will never be forgotten. Samantha, my other sister who was also younger than me, had been complaining of backaches and had been visiting hospitals and doctors habitually. An uneasy reaction inside told me the news he was about to share with me pertained to her and was not going to be enjoyable. His words were like ice that sent an uninterrupted chill down my spine. "Samantha has a large tumor on her back." My knees went weak. I understood from those past two minutes that my life was about to change forever.
             The news about my 12 year old sister broke out into the small 1500 population town within the hour my dad spoke it. Everyone came together suddenly to organize fundraisers to help out our family with the outrageous bills that were soon to come. The young people from every church made plans for a prayer breakfast in honor of Samantha. Each church had their young people say a prayer, sing a song, or give a small presentation about my sister. Samantha's dad, Brian, called my dad one day with encouraging news. "My friends are putting together a festival in honor of Samantha." I thought this was very generous because he was going through the same situation we were. Ladies from the church my dad pastors came up with the idea of selling barbeque dinners and bake sales. They put their minds to work right away. They labored for hours in taking orders, donations, and preparing the food. I had no idea the people that lived in that miniature town could be so concerned about my little sister and her family. It seems everyone understood what we were going through and helped us carry this burden in whatever way they possibly could.