Cathy Crary's Story

Thank you very much to Cathy Crary for sharing this.

Christina Newberg stepped into my world and the life of my family when she was a mere 3 years old. What a whirlwind of vibrancy and life she was! It was hard to keep up.

My two boys and I were at the community swimming pool when Christina's mother, Ginny, and I struck up a conversation. We discovered our children (her Christina and my Nicholas) were attending the same preschool down the road in Falls Church, Virginia, and we quickly devised a handy car-pooling plan. What was convenience for us became a beautiful friendship for our children.

I don't remember too many other details of that day, but Christina and Nick instantly bonded and became inseparable. Every day Nick was at the Newberg's house or Christina was at our home. Nick was shy; Christina was exuberant and outgoing. Nick had pale, pale white skin and white-blond hair; Christina had creamy brown skin and gorgeous black, curly tresses. These two children were perfect opposites in personality and physical appearance—yet they were perfect compliments to each other.

In my mind's eye I see Christina and Nick dashing up and down my staircase, wearing handmade satin capes—he was Superman, she was Batman. There were riotous sleepovers, explorations into local parks, and long, lazy days at the playground endlessly pushing the swings higher, higher, higher…

Our two families shared days at the water park and October visits to the pumpkin patch. What a lovely, magical time it was.

This is something I learned from Christina—revere life. Once, at home, I was on the verge of squishing an invading spider. "No!" Christina cried. "Let it live." To this day, when I find any spider, beetle or other bug interloper, I pick it up with a Kleenex and deposit it outside.

For some reason, one moment is frozen in time for me forever. Near our two homes was a steepish grassy hill next to a golf course. One warm day Ginny, Christina, Nick and my younger son Alex and I trooped over to the hill with the grand idea of rolling the kids' Big Wheels (those low-slung plastic tricycles) down the hill. Once we reached the top, Nick wasn't so sure it was a terrific idea. It looked pretty darned high to me, too.

Christina did not hesitate. She hopped on her tricycle and flung herself wildly down the hill, shrieking all the way down. Seeing her joy, Nick took the plunge and overcame his fear. This was the gift Christina gave to Nick.

Christina was bright. Christina was beautiful. I think maybe this world was just too slow for Christina, and the rest of us simply couldn't keep up.

Nick, Alex and I are blessed to have had the shining spark of Christina in our lives. We love her and we miss her.

Cathy Crary