The stories we encounter

I have lived in the same small town for close to 40 years. My children were students in the local public school system from kindergarten to graduation. That is a lot of history with a community. Two of my three children have moved elsewhere, but many of their classmates are still in the community.

Last night my church hosted a "Parents Night Out" for local families. When I looked at the registrations, I recognized one of the parents as someone slightly older than my own children. She brought her sons and they were great additions to the group. As I interacted with them, I figured out who their father was. And then I began to count the deaths in their lives. As one after another came to mind, it struck me how much tragedy is in their history.

1. We interacted with their grandfather when we bought our land in 1980. He died of a heart attack a few years later, leaving a wife and three young sons. Those sons grew up and have struggled in many ways.

2. One of the three fatherless sons was the father of these boys. Before they were born, he was at fault in a fatal car accident and went to jail for several years. Less than two years ago, he died in another accident, which sent another person to prison for similar charges. A few months later, I was talking to his aunt who said her sister was deep in despair, saddled with grief not only for the deceased son, but also for those who still lived. She died soon after. So the boys I met yesterday have lost both their father and paternal grandmother in the past two years. They never knew their paternal grandfather.

3. As I thought further, I realized the maternal grandmother of these boys was the victim of a rare shooting death in the area when their mother was in high school. Hardly anyone around here has lost family to homicide. They are among the few.

Two personable boys at a church event. It was our first encounter with them. Only my long history in the area combined with a few clues I picked up here and there filled in part of their story for me. Otherwise, I would have never guessed.

Maybe it would be better if these boys could go through life and never encounter anyone familiar with their history. I wonder how many people like me see them and are reminded of all the public tragedies in their lives.

Of course, I don't know about the less public tragedies. Nor the victories and accomplishments of their family that haven't merited news coverage.

In cases where one meets new people, is it better to know nothing or something? Should we simply assume that everyone has challenges in their family and needs to be treated with tender, loving care?