Some stories begin with a prologue, this one begins with an eulogy of sorts.
On July 6th, 1996, Ariella took her first of many breaths. She sucked in her first mouthful of oxygen and let out a cry that was joined by the joyous tears of her parents. There would be many tears to follow, the tears of happiness as she took her first step and spoke her first word, the tears that would stream as she fell and broke her arm, the proud tears welling in the eyes of her mother and father as she sang in her first concert, graduated kindergarten and middle school. Her parents couldn't love her any more, their only daughter.
The Christophs only daughter was so much more than the breaths she took, so much more than the labels given to her. She was a cancer, because of her birth date, said to be stubborn and fiercely loyal, but she was so much more than that. She was beautiful not just in appearance, but in the way that her smile could light the world for years and being near her felt like you acquired your own piece of heaven. She was kind, but not just in the way that she'd listen to you talk about your problems whenever you needed someone to listen, but in the way that she would sit there, deep in thought, trying to find some way to fix it so that you would no longer feel the harsh pain of the world. And as she sat there, her mind spinning to come up with some solution she would make your problems her own, she'd take them on as if she didn't have any to deal with herself. That's the kind of person she was, she was beauty personified. She was grace in human form.
Ariella felicity Christoph was much more than what she appeared. She was more than beautiful, more than smart, more than outgoing and charming and kind. More than life itself. She was more than her birth date, and she was so much more than the mere sum of her years, she lived more in 18 than many do in 75. But she wasn't done living when her time ran out, because you see, she needed more than 18 years, because she was so much larger than 18 years. Ariella was not her age, she wasn't a number. She wasn't July 6th, 1996. She wasn't just a total of 6,672 days (give or take a few), and she couldn't be summed up as one of the tens of thousands of teenagers to die from cancer each year.
She was more than words can describe. She was so much more. And to remember her,we will honour her wishes. Ariella will not be forgotten.
