My Sweet Carol

Ten years ago today, I received a phone call at work. The caller, my roommate at the time, told me sweet baby Carol had died. Today I want to honor her short, but beautiful life. This is an article I wrote about her a few weeks after her death in 2001.

I wiped my eyes and stared at the floor, embarrassed that I still cried about this; it happened weeks ago and no one else was crying at the drop of a hat. I stopped listening to what the man at the front of the church was saying and started the often-repeated conversation with God yet one more time. Maybe you've had a similar conversation, though your circumstances may be different. The conversation that begins, "God, it's not fair!"

My "not fair" conversation was about Carol. Two of my dearest friends were expecting their first baby and asked me to be in the delivery room when their child was born. I went through nineteen hours of labor and delivery with them before Caroline Elizabeth Anne decided to make her appearance.
I spent time with them every Monday night, holding Carol and playing with her. Sometimes she laughed at me. Sometimes she yelled because I wasn't her mom, and Mom was always her preference.

Then, one day I got a phone call saying Carol was gone. It was her six month birthday. Two days earlier she had been fine, but now she was dead. I was stunned...I hadn't been given time to prepare or say goodbye. And I was angry. Carol's parents had gone through so many trials in the past few years. It wasn't fair that they should have to give up their baby. I know that all things work together for good, and I know that God has a different plan. I even know that His ways are higher than my ways - all the phrases people like to say when someone dies unexpectedly - but I still thought it was unfair!

What seemed even more unfair was that, though Chris and Trudy, Carol's parents, grieved and went through their angry time too, they seemed to accept God's will quickly and had an amazing peace about their baby's death. I didn't. I pretended to whenever I was around them, but I just couldn't grasp the purpose of God's will. I had trusted God when other friends or family members had died, but this time, I just couldn't accept it. And my anger and frustration only grew when I noticed that others seemed to comprehend a part of God's plan that I couldn't comprehend.

One evening, two and a half months after Carol's death, I sat outside and wrote a letter to her. I told her, "Two days after you cried in frustration that I was holding you and I was not your Mom, and then you laughed at all my silly faces to make up for it, you were gone to Heaven.

"You didn't warn us that you were about to leave. You heard Jesus calling you, so you went. And you left me here, wishing you were back. I wouldn't care if you laughed or cried. I'd take either just to get you back here in my arms one more time. Exactly six months...that was your mission from God, and you completed it.

"You taught me the importance of awareness and truth. You always knew what was going on around you. Nothing fooled you. You knew exactly who held you and if it wasn't the person you wanted, you squalled until you ended up with the person of your choice.

"And you taught me to treasure the present. If I had known from the start that I would only have six months with you, I would have taken time to enjoy each part of your life, instead of wishing you into the next phase. I would have paid attention to detail so that I would have more memories to hold onto now that you are gone."

After I wrote the letter, something changed in my heart. I saw that Carol's life had a purpose and a time frame. She completed her purpose in her time frame. That's more than most seasoned adults have accomplished. Through her life and death, many who loved her have learned how to depend on God more completely. They have examined their own hearts and grown closer to the Lord.

1 Peter 1:6-7 says, "In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."

When I look at Chris and Trudy, I see that the trials they have endured, up to and including giving their daughter up to God, have increased their faith. They have a beautiful relationship with the Lord. They have trusted Him through all He has asked of them. They have walked through the fire and come through with a strong, genuine faith.

What a lesson of faith God taught through a tiny six-month-old baby who never spoke a word, yet lived and died as a testimony of God's grace and love.

Your Aunt Bekah still loves and misses you, sweet girl. Can't wait to hold you in Heaven one day.

Caroline Elizabeth Anne Hancock

August 1, 2000 - February 1, 2001