Here's Hoping Ignorance is Bliss...

Last weekend, little Matthew died. He was just five years old.

This jovial little boy, running all around the house, laughing, shouting, and exuding energy and vibrancy at every turn, is now laid to rest. Imagine his parents, knowing full-well that Matthew was held hostage by a terrible disease, preparing themselves for that one morning when he would not spring up to greet the day, as he had many mornings before. I want to hug them. I want to absorb some of what they are feeling now.

Inside, his cells had divided rapidly; the objective forces of science and biology at work. Externally, Matthew was a happy little boy, unaware of what was happening to him. In fact, he probably knew nothing of his own mortality; he watched kids cartoons, ate animal crackers, and sang songs. He went to school. He laughed with his brother, mom, and dad.

In fact, the words, "you can go to heaven when you're ready," uttered sweetly by his mother as she cradled him to bed one night, were what Matthew knew to be certain; that his life was filled with love and heaven was just another stop on his soul's journey.

Matthew will not feel the awkwardness of middle school. He won't get his driver's license, go to prom, have his first kiss, or get to graduate from college and get a "real" job. But there is something amazingly wonderful about that reality; that although Matthew's time on this planet was brief, he embodied the ideal life we all strive for: he laughed, loved, was loved, and indulged in the simple and real pleasures of life. His child-like naivete and carefree, blissful nature were the essence of his being, and that is a wonderful legacy to leave behind.

So he'll never grow into an adult. But he'll never get the chance to lose that child-like zeal for life; that optimistic and happy demeanor that so appropriately characterized his youth. He won't get the chance to become cynical about the world, to be heartbroken, to become addicted to a drug, to become jaded by politics, to lose his faith, to cheat on his spouse, or to hate his job and complain about his boss.

Matthew is eternally a child; a happy, wonderful, little boy. And this is how we will cherish and honor his memory; although he is gone, he has actually saved us, for he has caused us to pause, reflect, and be mindful of those things in life that are truly important.