I watch as he sits and cries longing for the touch of love, of familiarity, of family. I try to reassure him as he wonders 'why me?' and cries out for a life of normalcy like his friends. One in which his parents and two brothers share the ups and downs of life with him instead of looking down on him from an ethereal position of helplessness. I cry for him because one so young has had to endure pains I can not fathom even in my seniority. I fear (just as he does) that his life is in danger... danger of chance (another fire) danger of violence (a bullet in the back) danger of grief (another death). We both ask how much more can he take? How do I help him conquer the tragedy of his youth... of his life? I have to make him see that he has not been abandoned... that he must know there is something powerful meant for his life. He alone has escaped so much tragedy. He alone is left to tell of His grace and His mercy. He alone can be a testimony of victory over adversity ... that He alone can turn his tragedy into triumph!