Emily

While the rest of us are meandering around in relatively cushy lives complaining non-stop about trivial matters (gas prices are up 20% in 5 years, the market has only increased by 10% over the past 18 months, and the timing of the traffic light closest to your office seems to always be against you when you're late), there are a scattering of very young angels hidden among us that we rarely acknowledge. How much we could learn from them!

Meet Emily. She's a darling 9-year-old whose best friend is a cat named Pippy. She loves America, Christmas, Disney princesses, and Jesus. She's much like my own 6-year-old daughter. Except for one thing: Emily has cancer.

While I'm obsessing over my son's delayed potty-training, my cat's incurable vomitting habbit, and way too many door dings on my beloved car, Emily's attending regular testing and treament sessions. Her parents are experiencing anxiety the likes of which only the unluckiest of us parents every encounter. They're pulling their hair out, can't sleep at night, and are in a permanent state of worry over the future of their little angel.

But Emily takes this all in stride. Such youth and innocence. She probably thinks this is a perfectly normal part of life, something everyone endures. She doesn't even seem bothered that she was dealt such a poor hand. The rest of us are running around with a three-of-a-kind, two pairs, flush, or a full house and envious of the 5-of-a-kind the guy down the street was dealt. Emily's stuck with a 9-high and is putting on what the rest of us would call a "poker face". But for Emily, it's not a show. Her faith in God assures her that everything will be ok. She might not get the 4-0f-a-kind, but she doesn't care. Because she knows that what's important is to just make it to the next hand. And with God's grace...she will.

God bless you Emily.