L.C. (Loss Case) 19523-15

I met Daniela in the hospital corridors. She needed urgent surgery, and there was no parent to sign the consent form. She had never met her father. Her mother had passed away, and Daniela herself had moved between out-of-home care facilities since third grade.

While waiting for the surgery, we got to know each other. She possessed endless patience, waiting without a single complaint, despite having fasted since the night before and being terribly hungry. After surgery, she was in severe pain. I stayed by her side as she woke up, watching her gradually recover.

Later, I checked off items on my task list: death benefit, survivors' pension, abandoned child allowance, orphan subsistence allowance, child allowance. We also fought a battle with the public housing company to allow her brother - a lone soldier - to remain in their deceased mother's apartment, ensuring Daniela would have a home to return to on weekends.

This was deeply important to Daniela because she adamantly refused long-term connections with host families. She preferred remaining at the boarding school, saying: 'There is no one in the world who can truly take my mother's place, and I don't want anyone to try.' It often seems to me, too, that all the social workers, therapists, host families, counselors, and educators in the world cannot fill the void left when a parent disappears.

Daniela's older sister apparently felt the same way. Exactly two years after their mother's death, she ended her life. I found myself coordinating funeral and shiva arrangements, ensuring I stayed close to Daniela, taking her to the funeral and holding her over her beloved sister's grave.

Three months later, the prosecution sought her position regarding a plea bargain for the driver who killed her mother in the car accident. Daniela struggled bitterly to accept the deal. She had waited over two years for justice, only to discover that the person who took her mother's life would serve no prison time.

I wrote on her behalf that no punishment in the world could restore her mother or ease her pain, but that reckless acts resulting in loss of life demand a fitting penalty. I knew it wouldn't alter the plea deal; the legal system follows its routine.

Daniela's world, however, is led by her. A high-functioning girl - over-functioning, one might say. A facade of resilience. That is what we call children who endure hell yet appear 'fine,' without acting out or causing trouble - a sliver of control in a collapsing world.

We adults tend to overlook these children because they demand less attention. They signal: 'Don't worry about me, I'm fine.' And they do manage, but they still need to be cared for - no less than anyone else.