Peaches and Cream best describes my little country angel. She had the healthy country glow of the girls on the billboards that welcomed visitors to Tennessee. Lara was everthing sweet, tender and loving. She was where country lyrics come from.

Lara was not your ordinary sixteen year old. She cared for her mother, who was diagnosed with M.S. since she was thirteen. When other young girls were out trying to discover "WHO THEY ARE", Lara knew she was the loving daughter of a doting, but very sick lady. She knew without a doubt she was the apple of her daddy's eye.

She picked up my old guitar when she was only four years old. I would laugh cause "That old instrument was twice the size of my tiny little girl". She could pluck a mean tune on it by the time she was eight. While the children in the neighborhood were playing games in the streets and empty fields, little Lara could always be found in the basement family room, listening and playing along with country and gospel tunes that mellowed out of our old CD player.

A new Dolby Sound System was going to be Lara's Christmas present that year. I had already told her what the present was going to be, so she could have a say in the kind of system she would want...WHAT was really going to be a surprise was the latest electric guitar, I had on lay-away at the local music store.

My country angel and I would sit together for hours in the evening. Lara on her old guitar and me on the old wooden rinky dink piano that had been a family heirloom. Mom would be tucked in a midst of throws on the couch. Most of the time she was sound asleep after only an hour of our rendition of some of the old country songs that her and I danced and fell in love with. How we loved both the music and each other.

Five days before Xmas, Lara insisted she should be the one to make the trip into town with the final down payment for her present. Since the day was heavy with rain and sleet, I compromised that she could go and take care of that business; while I was across the street doing last minute shopping of my own. "She still didn't know about the new guitar". We were in such a light-hearted jovial mood, singing all the way into town. She belted out the lyrics of "YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE" which had always been a favorite of hers.

As I started to write out a check for the guitar, the Christmas music coming out of the surrounding speakers was overpowered by the screeching sirens of approaching doom. I started running toward the door, with an overwhelming feeling of dread. I must have bumped into one of the display racks "though I don't remember doing so", knocking over some of the CD's that were on display. As I automatically grabbed one in mid flight, "YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE" was stamped in large blue letters across the jacket.

I died there on the sidewalk that raining, sleeting afternoon. I died with My Little Country Angel.

Lara's life had been snuffed out in a matter of seconds. A hit and run had sent her flying into the plateglass window of the local five and dime. She died instantly...The sky that was dark and ominous the whole morning, released a mighty roll of thunder. The clouds parted as in Moses parting of the Sea. The sun shined brighter than I had ever seen. The crowd that had gathered seemed to catch their breath with one tremendous sigh.

Tears did not stop the heavenly glow. As the ambulance crew lovingly picked up my little girl, The air filled with a beautiful floral scent.

Before the ambulance turned the corner, the sky again began to turn black and the rains and sleet came, with no ending. The day after the funeral again the sun shined in all its glory. The brilliant sun welcomed my Lara into its heavenly fold. This is the memory that will sustain me and Mildred.

Mildred has been in remission almost three years. She said a blue light passes over her when she says her nightly prayers. She knows Lara is watching over her, she hears her gently whisper, "YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE".