A Better Place

Joy Catherine Baker. It seems to me that it was just yesterday when she and the rest of her family came to our church for the first time. It was a nice August Sunday and I remember it very clearly. The service was about to start when the Baker family rushed in. Our church being a very friendly church, we held up the service and met the family. They had three sons and one daughter ranging from ages 12-18. The oldest son was Andrew; he was 18. Next came the twins, Joshua and Joseph, who were 15. The youngest was Joy. There isn't much for me to describe about her yet because when we met her she was young and I didn't take much notice of her. After introductions we all went and had the service. Since my family sat directly behind the Baker family I had a good view for watching them. I couldn't tell you what the text was or anything else about the sermon but I can tell you that Joy sat in between Joshua and Joseph and she took lots of notes. She might be able to tell you what it was about. After the service we went out to play. Our church, though it was small (in its building and its congregation), had about three acres of land out back, we often went out to play after the services. On this particular day, however, the older ones were more interested in meeting the Baker family than playing a game. I went up to Joshua and Joseph and introduced myself. I learned that they were two months older than I was and they introduced me to their brother. Being boys, we stood in an awkward silence for a minute or two until my brother Jacob came up and started talking with us. We discussed our hobbies and discovered that the Baker children were a string quartet. Joshua and Joseph played violins, Andrew played the viola and Joy played the cello. Upon hearing her name mentioned the latter came up and playfully asked her brothers what sort of bad things were they telling Jacob and I. After assuring her that it was nothing worse than telling us that she played cello, they introduced her. I suppose that I should describe her, since my short little story is about her. She was tall for her age I guess, and she had long thick blonde hair. I never really paid much attention to her looks though, so I just assume that she had a pretty face. Her eyes were what people noticed about her. They were always sparkling. They fascinated me because there was never a time when I didn't see them animated. I can't even tell you what color they were. As it was the Baker family soon became an indispensable part of our church. And so, over the months we got to know the family. The boys added some very interesting viewpoints to our circle, and Joy animated the entire church. I hate to make time speed by in my tale but other than getting to know each other's families—since we lived a few minutes away it could hardly be avoided—little else happened in the next 3 years. So after the three years I began to see Joy differently. I realized that what confused me about her was that she always seemed enthusiastic like a child, but I never really thought of her as a child. I once told my mother, "I don't see how someone can be so enthusiastic, so passionate, so energetic, and yet, still seem intelligent and mature at the same time." I will continue my story by taking us to the Bakers residence in about June. They had a large yard and invited the entire church over for a picnic/dinner. For this festive occasion they had a volleyball game set up along with other such entertainments. My family arrived early and we helped, well, my sisters helped in the kitchen preparing food. I went outside and helped to move tables here and there. I could hear the girls talking in the kitchen and occasionally we could hear laughter floating through the open windows. "Well, they certainly seem to be enjoying themselves. Let's go see if there is anything else we can do." Joshua laughed as we made our way back to the house. Just as we walked in the door Joy called out cheerfully, "Oh hello John!" I said 'hello' back, "Do you boys think you could put those tablecloths on the tables? They are over there on the bread-box." So we took the table-clothes out and got them on securely when the other guests started arriving. We enjoyed a wonderful day playing volleyball and other such games. Joy made sure that everyone was as happy as she could help them to be. She was always encouraging people in the game and she felt their loses and their wins almost as much as her own. My family stayed 'till far into the night and then we played night games like "Ghost in the Graveyard" and "Sardines". When we left Joy and her family waved until we were out of sight. It was on that day that I really started noticing her. We often talked after that. We had many conversations in which she proved she was not unintelligent. I suppose I enjoyed them all the more because of it. Joshua told me that Joy cries in every book she reads or movie she watches. I for one could not picture Joy crying. She was always smiling, she was always happy. In fact once we had the following conversation: "John, why are you so serious sometimes?" "Well, not all of us have your gift of being able to be happy and joyful all the time." "But it isn't just a gift. We need to be happy and joyful! It's one of the fruits of the Spirit!" "I understand that but some people find it easier to be happy than others." "I still think you could be less serious." Her animation and cheerfulness was always missed whenever she was absent. When the accident happened…well, I'll tell you about it. She was 15 years old when it happened. I had known her for 3 years almost exactly. It was a car accident. A big pickup truck ran into the car that Andrew and Joy were driving in. The car was totaled and both passengers were taken to the hospital. Andrew came out with a broken ankle, a broken wrist, and a lot of bruises. Joy didn't fare so well. She had a lot of internal damage from broken ribs. After a few days of being in the hospital the doctor told us that it couldn't be very long. Joy told us not to be sad, she said that the joy that we have is in our hearts and must not die with her. We all still prayed for a miracle, but two weeks after the accident Joy Catherine Baker went to meet her maker. When my father told us my sisters burst into tears, and I struggled with tears myself but somehow I was able to keep them back. We drove over to visit with the Baker family. Mrs. Baker let us in and we all sat down in the living room. We talked about Joy, what she meant to us, and then Mrs. Baker said, "You know what, right before she died, I was sitting next to her. I was crying and she turned toward me and said, 'Don't cry mamma, I'm going to a better place.'" The tears started rolling down my cheeks and I knew that she was in a better place.