Copyright 1995(c)

          FOR STEPHANIE -- WHO TOOK THE BULLET FOR US.
                    A Ruby D. Begonia Column
                         By Del Freeman

     I heard the grandfather of the three-year-old girl, Stephanie
Cuen, who was killed by the gunfire of gang members when her father
turned into a dead-end street, speak of his loss.
     He stopped, he said, every day on his way home from work and
bought four pieces of candy. When he arrived home, grandchildren
tumbled from the house into the driveway, shouting of his arrival.
He disbursed candy and got hugs, one assumes, and kisses.
     Now, he said, he buys only three pieces of candy. God! What
eloquence.
     Doesn't one's mind reject the hurtful thought of never holding
or being held by little arms, again? Can't you feel the pain of
this devastating hole in your soul? Why, I wonder, doesn't the
world simply stop spinning at the cacaphonous sound of the rend
this must cause in the very heart of God.
     This is the kind of loss, I think, that belongs to all of us.
it is like a Dallas day-care bombing. This is not Susan Smith, but
it is equally horrific. And we're seeing a lot of memorial services
on our television sets, folks. 
     At Stephanie's memorial, a young child spoke of her death as
something which was not a loss, but I wonder.
     Her aunt, Tina Dalton, spoke of having Stephanie's death
somehow matter.
     It matters. It matters to her mother, who will never brush
that blonde hair or bandage a boo-boo, again. It matters to her
father, who will never dance with his daughter at her wedding. it
matters to her grandfther, who buys only three pieces of candy. And
you can bet your bottom dollar it matters to her grandmother, who,
like I, I'm sure, can only despair unto death at the very idea that
she will never feel warm baby-girl breath on her cheek and cuddle
a little bottom in her lap while reading a story.
     My three-year-old grandaughter is alive and well, and I give
grateful thanks to God and pray for this family.
     The thing is, it's got to matter just that much to all of us,
individually. We have got to stop killing one another if we ever
expect to have any meaningful dialogue, people. It's just that
simple. 
     We have got to find a way to quit reacting to the horror and
act to make peace. We have got to stop the trauma and get past it,
to the solution. We have got to stop hugging after the fact, and
start doing it in advance. We have got to stop killing our kids.
     The old-fashioned Golden Rule doesn't seem so hokey when it
saves the life of a three-year-old child, does it?
     Sleep well, Sephanie. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.

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