No happy post today, friends. Sorry.
A family close to us had their not-quite-two-year-old daughter taken from them in a farming accident this past weekend. I hesitate to use the word, but it really is nothing short of a tragedy. I can’t imagine all the “what if I had…” or “why didn’t I…” thoughts going through the minds of her parents this week, but really, there’s nowhere to point a finger. It just happened.
Could it have been prevented? Maybe. But how does that help the family and community that now mourn her? Like most accidents, it was just the wrong blend of totally normal circumstances. I wish there was a way to rewind time and bring her back to her mother, father, and two brothers, and the circle of aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins who love her. Not having a time machine or mystical powers, I find myself helpless to help beyond prayers and hugs.
I hope I don’t minimize this family’s loss, or make it uncomfortably public, by sharing it with you. My purpose is to bring your attention to how quickly and easily things like this can occur. It has made me look at my own home and yard with different eyes: where are the accidents waiting to happen? I’m putting my tools away a little more carefully, reassessing the chemicals in the shed, watching my step.
Many who will read this are urban gardeners, and may think this outside their list of worries. But all gardens have sharp tools, things to trip over, and probably some light machinery. I hope all of you will take a few minutes to assess the safety in your own garden, not to the point of paranoia or fear, but with a healthy respect for your mortality and that of those you love.
And give your kids, your spouse, your pets, an extra little hug today, for little Anna.