There should have been shouting and laughter in the street, but instead there was a still silence in the air. There should have been the clinking and scraping of bike pegs and skateboards against the ramps, but instead there was just distant noise from the traffic a block away. It was a perfectly beautiful, warm Fall afternoon. There should have been kids riding through the yard – but instead I stood there alone, drenched in the silence, feeling the hole left from a young life ended too soon.
Maybe you’ve read the tragic story of Autumn Pasquale, a 12-year old girl from a small town in New Jersey, murdered for her BMX bike in October 2012. Autumn was best friends with the girl across the street. Almost every day, they would ride their bikes up and down the street, and my sons would bring out their bikes, skateboards, and ramps. But no one has wanted to play outside for weeks, not even on a beautiful day like this one. News vans and reporters have left our town. No matter - the news reports will never be able to capture the emotions that are frozen in time, or the efforts of a town grasping for understanding and trying to move forward while everyone knows that the loss is still just a scratch below the surface. When something like this happens, you can't help but think of the person and how they were when you last saw them – smiling, spunky, determined. Then you can’t help but think of their final hours – trapped, alone, scared. And your heart breaks with helplessness and grief and anger.
I stood there in the yard utterly alone, my thoughts broken by yellow leaves falling like snow. I looked a few yards to the left, and the brilliant orange maple leaves were doing the same thing. And so were the bright yellow leaves from the tree next to it. The wind was blowing the leaves off of their trees, and they were falling together. But they didn’t just fall. They were suspended in the air - several feet high, several feet wide – swirling and dancing, like they were celebrating that they were finally free. This went on for at least five minutes without them falling to the ground! It was surreal and so completely opposite of what I was feeling inside. Beautiful and free – I think I might have pinched myself at one point because I had never seen anything like it.
Beautiful and free… like Autumn is now. No matter what she ever experienced in her short life, no matter what despair she experienced in her last hours, I heard the wind whisper that she is now free. I haven’t read of a way to make sense of such a selfish tragedy. I’ve never seen a commercial for that magic button that returns everything back to normal. All I know is the sense of comfort and shred of hope that somehow, some way God will use this vile act for good. That over time hearts will be healed and people will be able to move forward.
I kept watching those leaves. Eventually they slowly and peacefully began to float down, covering the ground with a magnificent orange and yellow blanket. Like Autumn, their journey not wasted but still bringing beauty to the world.
