Amazing Music by Juanita Faas 
 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lE7koUxYAFI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=83k4_hLJC64

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ezhzT-wbs2M

AngelAID is a 501(c)3 Not-for-Profit charitable organization based in Florida, USA serving children with life-threatening diseases or undesirable situations (homeless, abused, or in foster care). Our organization is 100% volunteer based and takes no government money. For fifteen years AngelAID has been self-supporting through the efforts of ordinary people who believe that we can make a difference. AngelAID has received numerous Senate and Congressional commendations including the President’s Points of Life Award.   

AngelHEROS

A Virtual Division of AngelAID Bridging RL and the Virtual Worlds

GLOBAL VISION

12/1/09 – To fulfill our global vision of helping all not-for-profits be self-sustaining, to enable them to help all families globally, we did two years of research in the virtual worlds of Second Life. We are forming a new Not-For-Profit named AngelHEROS, which will be a bridge between Real Life and Second Life. It is a global community of choice where ordinary people are united by a common purpose: co-creating positive change through united effort. We will be united by our commonalities while celebrating our differences.

Just as SecondLife is a ground-breaking concept to fill the needs of a new virtual age, so too will AngelHEROS be a platform bridging the virtual world with real life. Within three years we expect to have real life chapters of AngelHEROS in communities globally, interacting with the virtual world via the AngelHEROS platform.

We knew our visionary concept would need a physical presence before it could be understood by non-virtual world sceptics. The first phase of our plan has been the creation of the amazing AngelHEROS Mainland Embassy and will be a perfect core headquarters for the implementation of our program and the prototype to market our concept.   Update:/We thought SecondLife would grow to meet our needs – it has not; the venue only permits apx. 70,000 members to be on at any one time, only about 70 in any one location – not viable for a true global community – but it can still be the base for smaller meetings and interaction.  Technology moves on – so are we.

• One picture of our Mainland Embassy
• 
• Over 100 pictures of the AngelHEROS Embassy in SecondLife – on Picasa
• Our entire vision and reason for existing is to help organizations have the ability to be self-supporting via participation in the AngelHEROS platform. Through participating organizations our vision has the potential to impact every street in the virtual community and every street in real life communities.

AngelHEROS believe that “every child is my child and every street – is my street’. We believe that global peace will happen one street at a time by ordinary people united to make positive change.  When we each step out to heal one street, our paths will converge in peace.  AngelHEROS will be one platform, one path for that convergent goal.

We will not compete with any existing services or organizations, but rather we serve as the liaison and find creative ways to fill needs using current available resources – wherever they may exist. Think of us as the not-for-profit social enterprise of the future (eBay, barter, time-dollars, points.com, Google, United Way and banking under one umbrella – and on steroids).  (note: this sim was closed after the global economic crises to save personal funds

We believe our world is desperatly in need of heroes. Being an AngelHERO will allow individuals everywhere to remember that people are the answer. We are the heroes. Allowing our program the continued use of this beautiful platform will enable us to continue on to Phase II: implementing the Blessings con-current currency concept which is a vital part of the ability to help people and foundations globally.

The first phase of our plan has been the creation of the amazing AngelHEROS Mainland Embassy and will be a perfect core headquarters for the implementation of our program and the prototype to market our concept. This has been accomplished. Our build started from the generous donation of an 8000 sq.meter piece of land in the Jewell mainland region by Biff Zond, and we purchased small pieces (many sign farms) to grow to our current size. Mainland cannot receive reduced not for profit tier rates, so it is time to move to a more economic situation.

Update:  This sim was closed to save personal expenses after the global economic crisis.  Our current fundraising goal is to raise $30,000 US via the Ashosha grant  competition  - the funds raised TOTALY IN THE VIRTUAL WORLD, PROVING THE VIABILITY OF TECHNOLOGY FOR USE BY SMALL NOT FOR PROFITS.   This will be a tremendous blessing. Thank you for your support of AngelAID and of the new AngelHEROS virtual/global platform.

In total, approximately $60 USD was raised during this 5 hour event.

Close up of RoseDrop Rust.

The event just warming up, RoseDrop Rust on the guitar.

Close up of Ed, the next live artist on the set.

Party started to pick up.

Everyone dancing, and having fun as well as raising money.

Juel Resistence, stepped up to the stream.

Full motion during Juel’s set.

RoseDrop taking a second set, very kind of him.

RoseDrop on the piano.

~ Kopilo Hallard.

For over 18 years, we had been praying for a family. And when the telephone call finally came, we were expecting a warm, cuddly baby. Instead, God’s plan for us was a miracle – a miracle that just happened to come in the package of an angry, 70 pound, 9-year-old African- American girl with AIDS. We thought we were offering this wounded child a safe home. Little did we know she would take up residence in our hearts.

Tashia was a scared little girl who didn’t know who God was. She was believed to be the first child in Florida (and one of the first in the nation) to have contracted the HIV virus through sexual abuse.

Newspaper articles and government reports show that the abuse began as early as 2 years of age with her first sexually transmitted disease. Even though we had to spend a tremendous amount of time and effort on Tashia’s clinical/nursing care, true healing was accomplished by the spiritual influences of the many loving people who touched her life during our two years with her.

The word “AIDS” has such a power to cause fear, and Tashia had lived for 9 years in fear, so we only told her she had “bad blood.” We never lied to Tashia, so she also knew that she had a disease that would never go away, a disease that she could die from if she didn’t eat and take her medicine.

And with a T-4 count of zero, Tashia had to take countless medications each day. So we made it a game, cheering when she finished taking ten syringes of medicine – by herself.

Our child made so much difference in our lives. We were told that she would only live a few short months, so we spoiled her terribly at first. But we gladly modified her behavior when it became obvious that Tashia would decide when it was time to “go see God.”

A party every month, two over-whelming Christmases, a bedroom we called “Toys R Tashia,” but Tashia just wanted to be a normal little girl – and have a mommy and daddy she could trust. We tried to give her everything within our power – but without even trying, or knowing, she gave us constant (and still) unfolding miracles.

She could not read or write, nor did she understand the concept of God. Arlene spent countless hours each day and night working with Tashia. Tashia’s prayers became: “Thank you, God, for Mommy and Daddy. Thank you, God, for Grandma. Thank you, God, for my playroom. Thank you, God, for all of my animals . . .” and on and on. Tashia was not a statistic, or a number.

Tashia was a real person, a child who just wanted to BE a child – to be loved. She was beginning to heal, only to be dying. She was blossoming into a beautiful little girl who was allowing herself to become the innocent little girl God intended. This child who hid in closets out of fear, learned to trust anyone – she did not know a stranger. So we protected her form the pain that outsiders could cause – the rejection and fear that so many people with AIDS are forced to endure.

We had so many good times talking with Tashia – but how do you teach a child to live, while preparing her to die? How do you answer such questions as: “What does God look like? What is Heaven life? Why did the bad mens hurt me?” Tashia was afraid that she wouldn’t know how to get to Heaven.

Arlene replied, “Tashia, I’ve never been there, but I think that one day you will be so tired, that you will ask God to take you to Heaven. You will close your eyes, Mommy will be holding your hand, and you will go to sleep. You won’t feel anything, and when you wake up, you won’t hurt ever again, your body will be healed and GOD will be holding your hand.”

Tashia piped up, “I want to go to heaven in a spaceship!” She loved Star Trek! So we told her that we were sure that if she asked, God would take her to Heaven in a spaceship. She smiled and relaxed. Relaxing was hard for Tashia; she was allergic to all of the opiates and only had prayer and meditation and massage for her pain.

We believe that Tashia got her ride on that spaceship – with a huge smile on her face. In the hospital, Tashia adopted us six hours before she died. She looked up at Arlene from her hospital bed and said, “Mommy, I hurt so bad; I want to see God. Help me die.”

We knew that there was only one thing holding Tashia her: she was afraid that if she wasn’t Tashia Shipley, we wouldn’t be able to find her in heaven. Man’s laws said that we couldn’t adopt her – but GOD’s laws said Tashia could choose. So we called our priest and witnesses and had a sacred adoption around her bed. We will never know a prouder moment than the day Tashia chose us as her mommy and daddy “for ever-and-ever.”

A little later, in terrible pain, she perked up and wanted a “party.” So we unhooked her from the monitors and wheeled her to the hospital snack shop where, to our surprise, she ordered grape soda and “tayta” chips, taking only a small bite/sip of each. She had NEVER ordered grape soda – she loved her Pepsi.

Tashia was doing so well, so we went home that night to catch up on some rest. For the last time, we joined her in prayers, and heard her say: “If I should die before I wake.” We said our goodnights. Tashia told us she loved us and Arlene asked, “How much?” As usual, Tashia replied, “Clear to God and back.”

The next morning, as we were leaving the house to return to the hospital, we received a telephone call that Tashia had died. Her respiration had gone from normal to zero – one moment to the next. Upon arriving at the hospital, Tashia’s hand was open and she had the biggest smile on her face, a smile we hadn’t seen for quite a while.

We have no doubt that Tashia chose the moment she would see God! This memory will never leave us. A few days later, we not only realized that she had “bread and wine” – her last communion of grape soda and chips -she had also chosen to be with God exactly two years TO THE DAY that God had given her to us.

Tashia’s two years with us were a celebration of LIFE. We never treated her like a “sick” child; we acted as though her medical needs were normal. And because we focused on the LIFE she could cram into each new day, so did she. All the wonderful, happy times this child was able to experience, even with her bad blood, were an absolute gift to all of us who had the privilege of participating.

Many times we see a person with AIDS or any life threatening illness through clinical eyes but forget their spiritual and emotional needs. How a person is treated has a definite impact, positively or negatively, on the quality and duration of their life. A holistic program and people reaching out in unconditional love worked hand-in-hand to help Tashia live far beyond expectations.

AngelAID, a non-profit organization for children with ANY life threatening disease or situation (homeless, abused, etc.) Was formed in Tashia’s memory. We love and miss her to thisday just as if it were yesterday – instead of two years this week (3/10/94).

Tashia’s short life and needless death will not be forgotten; her story is still being told over and over. And her lessons and miracles are expanding. What a gift she was to all of us!

Imagine you’re with me on a home visit to take in a new client. It’s a heart-breaking situation, but we have to remain upbeat. The family we are visiting has a terminally-ill child with many special needs. The dad couldn’t deal with the fear and re- sponsibility – so he left. The mom, now head of the household, had to quit her job to meet her child’s needs; and the system is failing.

She has two other children in good health. They however, have many difficult issues with which to come to terms. In addition to learning to grieve the loss of their sibling, they often go without ful- fillment of emotional needs, and guidance. They feel neglected.

The amount of time the mother must devote to her angel-in-waiting consumes her. The other children don’t really wish to burden her further with prob- lems that don’t seem as important in comparison.

As a case manager I want to help, but I can’t provide any simple answers – there aren’t any.
Often I can aid in meeting basic security needs such as: outstanding rent, and utility bills; food and clothing. The needs of this family only begin there.

This family needs emotional support. They need to know that they are not alone. They need to know that somebody cares. The ill child needs to arrive a peach by the time of his/her death. The well children need a forum to air their issues. They need role models, and a positive environ- ment in which to seek acceptance. Mom, poor mom, she needs help and a break!

Now we leave to visit another family; this time we were called by a visiting nurse for emergency help.

The nurse went to the patient’s home to give them a bath – and there were no towels, soap, etc., to bath them or sheets on the bed. The mother came home from the hospital without a refrigerator and was giving her baby curdled milk.

We are bringing food, milk, diapers, hygiene and cleaning products, and frozen meals to be put into a refrigerator we have arranged to be delivered. Mom is so tired and ill she can hardly get up to care for her child. She is all alone; you see, she is a recovering drug addict and her family has long ago given up on her – but AngelAID hasn’t.

I believe you get the general idea of how my days are spent – but you can’t see the joy and smiles and hope and gratitude that these families express when they finally realize that they are not alone
and that AngelAID will help them get through this overwhelming time.

Won’t you read about “How You Can Help!” You CAN make a difference, One Angel At A Time!

SOARING

Paul Metten
Volunteer Case Manager

Before Tashia came to live with us, her angel-wings were damaged. Despite many abuse reports, many abusers, many STD’s, and even with AIDS, the Florida “system” returned Tashia to an environment that killed her. A civil suit will soon decide if that system’s negligence contributed to her death by ignoring her cries for help.

As you read her story, please remember that Tashia’s two years with my husband Carl and I were a miracle. This is a story of rebirth, a story of celebration. This is the story of an angel whose wings were allowed to heal.

When my husband Carl and I brought Tashia home she was full of rage, covered with scars and bleeding sores, fearfully hid in closets, sucked her thumb, had undiagnosed multiple personalities (“Rage” destroyed her bedroom twice), hurt herself because voices told her she was bad, hoarded food under her mattress, and did not know who God was. She was broken in body, mind and soul — BUT THEY DID NOT BREAK HER SPIRIT.

In my opinion, she did not have to die — but her cries for help were ignored until it was too late: she was ignored, abandoned and erased. No one else would take her, but God had spoken to our hearts. How else would I have been able to work full-time, go to college full-time, care for my mom with Alzheimer’s, and care for this dying child? Obviously I have an amazing husband – that’s another story!

The sexual abuse by many men was not all this child suffered. When she finally learned to trust us, she told us stories no adult should have to hear, let alone a child experience. Stories of punishment: burning stovetops, baking ovens, closets with ropes and gags and chairs, choking cords, and never anywhere to hide — or anyone to listen.

You can imagine how hard this made Tashia’s care. For the first time in her life she was SAFE and happy, only to be dying a horrible, painful death. I’m often asked how we could even think of taking in a dying child, a child with AIDS.

If only they could have listened to her prayers, praying to a God she didn’t know before she came to us (she was baptized her first Easter Sunday). If only they could have heard her almost endless list of “Thank you Gods,” and her “Please Gods” as she asked His help for others. Then they would have seen her look at me and say, “Mommy, you make my heart sing!”

Not only would be KNOW why we did it, they would morn the lost privilege of knowing Tashia. But sadly, there are many wounded angels in our world, waiting for their wings to be healed.

How do you TEACH anyone (let alone a child) to die? Tashia didn’t know she was dying. She knew she had a disease that wouldn’t go away and we spoke to her often about God, Heaven, and about the fact that all of us die. But SHE told us at the end.

Tashia couldn’t wait to see God. She trusted God and her parents so totally that before she died she said to me: “Mommy, I hurt so bad, I want to see God, please help me die.” She was afraid that if she wasn’t Tashia Shipley we would not be able to find her in heaven.

Man’s laws would not allow us to adopt her; but God’s law said Tashia could choose. So our priest had a sacred adoption around her bed and Tashia chose us to be her mommy and daddy “for ever and ever”. I will never know a happier moment, while I am alive. She relaxed then; she was safe.

Relaxing was hard for Tashia; for our two years she was allergic to all of the opiates. So all she had for pain relief was Tylenol, our prayers and meditations, the sound of my voice soothing her, and the touch of hands constantly massaging her body. One night after her prayers she told me, “Mommy, I’m afraid, I don’t know how to get to Heaven.”

“Sweetheart, I haven’t been there either. But remember when I told you about your surgery? That you would hurt; you would go to sleep and not feel a thing. Then when you woke up you wouldn’t remember anything and mommy would be there holding your hand.

Mommy told the truth didn’t she? Well, I think dying is like that. One day you will say ‘God I don’t want to hurt anymore, please take me to heaven.’ And He will put his hand where it hurts; you will go to sleep. You won’t remember anything and when you wake up God will be holding your hand instead of mommy.” She smiled and relaxed; she trusted me, and God, so completely.

I believe that it happened exactly the way I told her, because twelve hours later she chose to go to heaven. She was not alone or afraid. She died in absolute peace, with God’s smile on her face.

That night I sat up and wrote her the letter which you can
read by reading ‘A letter to God’s newest angel’. http://angelaid.com/tome/1994/03/10/a-letter-to-gods-newest-angel/

Arlene Shipley describes the emptiness as a “gaping silence.” Every now and then, the parrotsquawks: “Tashia. Tashia.”

But Tashia is gone. She was an 11-year-old foster child who contracted AIDS through sexualabuse and died March 10-. She was buried in an unmarked grave in Arlington memorial Park. For the past two years, she lived with the Shipleys, her medical foster parents, in their Southsidehome.

Medical foster parents are trained and paid by the state to care for sick children who have beenremoved from their homes. Because many of the children will die in their care, the foster parentshave to be a special breed. They must do all the usual parenting things, handle the emotionalneeds of abused and neglected children and cope with illnesses and disabilities.

While the foster parents are responsible for e the children 24 hours a day, they do not have the authority to make decisions about such things as medical care. This is the responsibility of the legal guardian.

And in Tashia’s case it was even more complicated. She was removed from her home by theFlorida Department of Health and Rehabilitative Services six years after the first report of abuse.

By age 9, when she went to live with the Shipleys, she had been diagnosed with acquired immunedeficiency syndrom and was covered with weeping herpes sores. A Duval County grand juryinvestigated why HRS took so long to remove her from an abusive home. Her guardian, FirstCoast Child Advocate, a non-profit organization, has sued HRS on her behalf.

Almost everything related to her care had political ramifica- tions for someone. “No one wantedto take changes with her, “ Shipley said. “We lived in a fish bowl. It was difficult to be accountable to so many people; six case workers, four lawyers, a therapist, a guardian, HRS.

“It kills you some days. Everyone did the best they could under very bad circumstances. Itwasn’t always what was best for Tashia. HRS did more heroics so they wouldn’t be questioned later about not doing enough for her.

“People sometimes five or seven a day, would show up unannounced, questioning what you aredoing. You have her 24 hours a day, but you’re only the foster parent.”

The Shipleys, married 18 years, are unable to have children. They have had a menagerie of catsand dogs and rabbits and the parrot. But it wasn’t enough and they decided to become foster parents. “I felt there were things we could share,” Shipley said. They thought their foster child would be a baby. But when Shipley heard about Tashia, “my heart exploded,” she said.

It was scary,” she said, “how are we going to do this? We had never had a child and now we’regetting a 9-year-old who has been abused and has AIDS. We prayed and prayed.”

As with many foster children, Tashia came to the Shipleys wary and distrusting. “When webrought her home, we told her this was a happy house,” Shipley said, “We promised her no onewould hurt her. We told her she would have her own room with a lock on the door.”

Tashia was in culture shock. She had never seen a vacuum cleaner or a dish washer. She wasmesmerized by the big screen TV. She hid food in her room, not trusting there would be othermeals. She went into the Shipley’s bedroom at night to make sure they were still there.

The first three or four months, they heard her talking to herself in the bathtub. She useddifferent voices and argued with them. Sometimes she screamed and hit herself. She said thevoices told her she was stupid and ugly. The Shipleys repeatedly told her she was beautiful andtaught her to tell the voices to go away. Eventually they did.

Caring for a child who had been sexually abused turned out to be a special gift, said Shipley,who had been sexually abused for sixteen years as a child. “It was healing for me,” she said. “Every time I fought for her, I fought for the little girl inside me.”

One of the early signs that hey were winning her trust occurred on night when Tashia stretchedout on the floor next to her foster father and fell asleep watching TV. “She allowed herself tobecome a new innocent child,” Shipley said.

On occasion that had its drawbacks. Once she decided she could trust people, she assumed everyone was her friend. She would invite strangers home and was specially con- cerned about men on the streets offering to work for food. The Shipleys kept a supply of caned goods in the car for Tashia to give to strangers in need.

The Shipleys had been told not to expect Tashia to live much more than four months.
With that in mind, they took in Shipley’s mother, who has numerous health problems, including Alzheimer’s disease.

Grandma’s poor memory made her an ideal companion for Tashia, who loved to watch a movie over and over again. No matter how many times Tashia watched it, the movie was always new to Grandma. But Tashia and Grandma couldn’t be left alone. “We didn’t have an evening out for 18 months,” Shipley said.

Shipley said they did not use any extraordinary measurers to protect themselves from the AIDS-causing virus. They used standard precautions taken by health care profes- sionals and carried gloves and bandages in the car.

Tashia’s AIDS presented a special problem because that information is confidential under statelaw. Some people knew; others guessed. “We lost family and friends be- cause of the fear,”Shipley said. “Good decent people who are afraid.’

Shipley said she and her husband plan to devote them- selves to educating people about AIDS sothat people don’t have to be afraid. They hope it will help them refocus their lives.

Grieving for Tashia and the abrupt change in identity has been difficult. “I’m not a mommy anymore,” Shipley said, “I’m not living in a glass fishbowl. Suddenly it’s over, and you’ve outlived your usefulness.”

I know, Precious, that sounds so formal — but it just doesn’t seem right to address an angel as “Punkin-butt!” Oh well, when did you or I ever follow the rules? And now, with you in Heaven, all the rules have changed and I feel so lost.

Suddenly you know all the truths of the Universe and I’M the one with all the questions! (I liked it better when you trusted “Momomy” (as you spelled it) and Daddy to fix anything in the world, except your disease.) Suddenly I can talk to you as an adult, and I just want to hold you in my arms and hear you say, as you did so often: “Mommy, let’s talk about God.”

Now that I don’t have to speak to you as a child, there are so many things I want to tell you! When you came to us as from the hospital, a week after your ninth birthday, you were sexually and physically abused; so scared you hid in closets; so hyper-vigilant and full of anger that a social worker warned us, knowing we had expected a cuddly baby, that you were ugly. (Only two months later the same woman would marvel at how beautiful you were — isn’t it amazing what a little love and stability can do?)

You were so starved for affection that you used made-up words so that I would spend long periods questioning you about what I thought were cultural misunderstandings. (And they told us you were retarded!) And you were so sick, dying of AIDS that they told us you only had four months to live. (And you lived two years, to the day, that God gave you to us.)

They didn’t want to give you to us, as a first foster child; I told them that you were the child God had chosen for us — why else would a childless, white couple in their 40’s, married 18 years, suddenly decide: “Gee, we need to take in a discarded, little African-American girl who is dying of AIDS.” (Psych! As you would say!) I was right, no one else was willing to take on this tremendous responsibility — if only they knew the JOY of which they deprived themselves! But I must admit, that Friday, when they decided one more time, even with AIDS to put you back home, we were overwhelmed with sadness, but almost relieved.

When you made yourself sick to get back to the hospital over the weekend, your Daddy and I had talked more realistically than ever before and we prayed, a LOT. Were WE capable of taking care of you, preparing you to die, bonding with a child who would die, dealing with our own personal fears and lack of knowledge about your disease, dealing with being legally forbidden to say what was wrong with you, fearing that people would find out anyway?

On and on, our thoughts ran in circles. Finally, we accepted that God knew we couldn’t do a perfect job, and that if we did the best we could, and found we couldn’t continue, we would say so — we would trust that there was a reason God had put you in the system at the exact time He was opening our hearts. So we trusted, and accepted the greatest gift God will ever give either of us — you, our precious daughter.

You captured my heart that very first moment: a dozen adults walking in front of me, you flew past all of them, wrapped your skinny little arms 1/2 way around me (cause that’s all the farther you could reach), looked up at me and said, “Are you my new mommy?” My heart melted and with it my doubts. As we proceeded down the hall, you asked the nurses, “This is my new mommy, isn’t she beautiful?” You were such a con-artist! (A word you heard often, and loved.)

Those two years, we never fought your dying — that was predetermined — instead, your Daddy used his nursing and I used my anger to fight the system to make your life as safe, child-like and normal as possible. At your pace, we prepared you to die; never realizing that each time we answered your questions about God, Heaven and death, we were also hearing the words that would prepare us to give you PERMISSION to die.

When you asked me what God looked like, my heart sank to the floor — in two seconds I was supposed to have the wisdom of the ages. Luckily I only needed the wisdom of a nine-year-old! I told you that just as God has many names, each person can choose to see God any way they wish. I told you that when I pray, I see God as a grandfather who looks a lot like Santa Claus, jolly and laughing, a person who’s lap I want to sit on and to whom I want to tell my secrets.

You liked that idea, and decided God was a clown. Later you decided Heaven was Disneyworld, so God had to be Mickey Mouse! (I thought that was real appropriate, since He was Black.)

But you were only nine, so when you told us heart-stopping stories and asked why people hurt you, I had to put my anger aside and tell you that some people do very bad things in this world, but that I was so sorry, and that God was sorry, and that we promised that NO ONE would ever hurt you again. And that some day you would be in heaven with God, and that there were no bad people in heaven, no disease, no pain, no fear — forever and ever.

But in the meantime Daddy and I would protect you — and you trusted me, because I had never told you lies or broken promises. So you knew Heaven was a safe place, a place where your body would be healed, where your pets were waiting for you, where you could slide down the rainbows, fly as an angel and have Tinkerbell’s body. (I also told you I could eat and not get fat, and shop and not get bills!)

Now I can tell you that MY earliest memories are also of sexual abuse (until I was 18), that as a child I prayed to God to rescue me, then to make my daddy go away, and finally to let me die. When God didn’t answer those prayers, I decided there wasn’t a God, how could there be a God who let such evil things happen to children. So I knew the same fear, loneliness, anger, voicelessness and rage that you knew and at 40 years of age, five years before we got you, I was 380# and had not left my home in 6 months.

That’s when I came to believe that God does not do the good or the evil in this world, that human beings make our Earth heaven or hell — but God is there, holding us up and giving us the strength and courage me need to make a difference in this world, if we ask, but WE have to fix the problems, starting with ourselves.

I know I said the words “I love you” more times each day, than I had previously said each year. When you said you hated your body, I told you that you had the body that God had given you, so it must be very special and constantly called you my “beautiful chocolate princess.” I know I tried every way possible to tell and show you how much you meant to me, but you died one week after your eleventh birthday, two years to the day that we got you, and there just wasn’t enough TIME!

You were too young to understand how your resurrected my life, our home, our marriage; how each time I fought for you, I was healing the abused child in me; how privileged we felt to have you in our lives; how beautiful and loved you made me feel; how proud you let me walk; what peace you brought to my heart; how I am learning to focus my anger for good purposes; how I have been brought into constant contact with God because of you; how much I welcome and relish the gift and challenge of a fresh start with each new day; how you taught me to REJOICE in all the gifts God gave this world and to USE all the gifts God gave me.

You taught me that miracles aren’t one single, earth-shattering event performed for the world to see — miracles are the small, quiet, unheralded tasks we perform to the best of our ability, one day at a time. You taught me that it is never too late to have a happy childhood; that if I nurture and protect the damaged child inside of me and reach out to others, I can transform those tears of pain into tears of joy.

My arms ached for the babies I never had, but you taught me that if I need someone to hold ME, I have to search for someone that NEEDS holding; if I need to feel loved, I have search for someone who NEEDS loved; and if my heart or soul feels empty, I have to search for someone else who’s heart needs fed.

The experts all say that children like you and I haven’t got much hope. You taught me (as you did so many times) that the experts are wrong! We are all born into this world as angels, but some of us get our wings damaged and can no longer fly. The miracle you showed me is that TWO angels with damaged wings can hold each other up — and if they can just hold on to each other long enough for their wings heal, they can BOTH take flight!

Thank you for healing my wings — THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME SOAR! Thank you for loving me long enough that I could learn to love the woman I am becoming — thank you for being YOU!

I am glad that you are in heaven where words aren’t necessary, where all truths are already known, because mine are so inadequate. I am so grateful, words can never express the joy your two years gave so many people. It’s a good thing your love will sustain your Daddy and I for the rest of our lives, since the media has identified us as AIDS foster parents, we won’t legally be allowed any more children, their HIV status would be disclosed.

I believe that God will now show me the way to fight for ALL children and pray that you will give me what- ever words are necessary, so that I can write your story, lecture and educate. When I hear people say that AIDS is a curse from God — I will ask them to see that God didn’t send AIDS, but as with all evil in this world, He will see how decent people respond to the test. A man I know named Jesus went into the leper colonies — He didn’t expect all people to do that, but His view is pretty clear: “As you treat the least of these, so you treat Me.”

When this world accepts, as you taught us, that EACH child in this world is MY child, we will do whatever is necessary to heal our world, one person at a time. Good and evil both create an energy that we can feel in this world, and for too long many of us have let evil deeds outweigh the good. Now our world’s energy is VERY out of balance and it is evident in every aspect of our lives.

I believe that when we reach out to help another, we heal our own hearts, God smiles, and the energy of good in this world is increased. I have seen God’s smile — I have seen His smile on your face when you died — and I have felt the energy that love can create.

Tashia, your Daddy and I will love you forever and ever, clear-to-God-and-back.” Thank you for making this world a place where dreams come true — thank you for making our lives, and our home, a small piece of heaven. As you told me:

“YOU MAKE MY HEART SING!” Thank you, God.