Having spent a lot of time on aidpage in the last several weeks, I realized that what I felt was a bad situation for me, did not seem so bad compared with many of the stories I read. It seems that nearly everyone here is poor - at least temporarily - and is suffering from that poverty. These stories are certainly really sad and it is such a good thing for people to help them when and how they can. But I wanted to share something today that affected me personally, that might help put even some of the worst stories on aidpage in perspective.
For the past couple of days, on national news (there is a news article on the incident and the funeral here), it was announced that two young college girls were murdered by a young man, who then turned the gun upon himself. He did it, apparantly, because one of the girls (who's birthday it was incidentally), told a young lady that he was dating that she had a "bad feeling" about him and advised her to avoid him. For this compassionate advice, this beautiful 20 year old girl took a bullet to the head from a semi-automatic handgun. Her best friend was also shot and died later at the hospital. The news story stated that she was attacked immediately upon existing her Mercedes at her gated apartment complex. Like many of you, when I hear the word "Mercedes" images of wealth and even feelings of jealousy pop up in my mind - not as a purposeful thought, but almost as a reflex. Yes, I know for a fact that this family was wealthy and lived a lifestyle that most of us could barely dream of living. But let me ask you - would you trade your current situation for that of this family? Are things so truly bad in your life that you would trade the life of your child, parent, brother or sister for wealth?
No-one should live in a state of want - to be hounded by bill collectors, not be able to earn a living, not be able to afford dental work or their needed prescription drugs. I think that despite our troubles, we need to count the good things that we have - including the ability to share our pain with others. I know that I do.
The name of the girl about which I am writing is Carol Kestenbaum. She was murdered on her 20th birthday.
Carol was my cousin. I never met her and now I will never be able to.
