I laid her head in my lap and with tear-filled eyes gazed up into the heavens. In a choking voice, I asked, “Why did they have to die? Why must I hurt so? What have I done wrong?” I heard a noise behind me. It was my mother. She sat down and put her arm around me. “You’ve done no wrong, Billy,” she said. “I know this seems terrible and I know how it hurts, but at one time or another, everyone suffers. Even the Good Lord suffered while He was here on earth.”
