Her Mom

Her name was Crystal. I took my purchases up to the counter and the smiling young lady - barely grazing 20 years old, began ringing in my purchases. We started chatting and she asked me about all the scrapbooking items in my basket. I told her about our Zeal for Teal fundraiser. I explained how we were doing it in order to help raise awareness and educate women about Ovarian Cancer.

Crystal's nimble fingers stopped for a moment. She ceased pressing the keys on the cash register and looked deep into my soul.

"That's what my mom died of," she said. "And now I am having a baby and I miss her terribly."

I gazed at her little belly. Barely sprouting. A teal shirt - ironically, covering the tiny bulge.

She resumed ringing in my purchases. Her words had impacted my heart and I wanted to reach out and hold the new little momma-to-be, close to my heart. Like some mad-hatter marketer I started spitting out the details of the Zeal for Teal crop.

"Are you a scrapbooker?" I asked.
"No, but maybe I could try."

I promptly promised that the next time I was in the store I would bring in our flyer and information about our special day. We chatted for a few more minutes about her pregnancy and how she had been feeling. She was a little girl who needed her momma and ovarian cancer had stolen that from her. She was nine when her mother died. Her mother was 38. Wrong, wrong, wrong...cancer cares not for whom it afflicts. 38? A mother? Far too young for life to be snatched and to leave a little girl motherless. A little girl who was now having her own precious little one.

God...when I get to heaven, will I know why? I sometimes think I know why. Then I see Crystal and once again, I don't understand. 

Maybe I will go back to the store and ask her if she needs me to be her Mom...