Cole Michael Stevens

Each child brought into this world brings with him or her special qualities. Each is very different. As parents, our role is that of guidance. Our job is to guide these children to best fulfill their roles in this life, and to help them use their special talents in ways that bring good to the world.

Now, every child responds to that guidance in different ways. Some look you in the eye and say, “Yeah, right, Mom,” while thinking, “Well, maybe she’s right, but I think I’ll check out other stuff, too, just in case she isn’t right.” And so they test, and try (usually our patience), and wind their way through life, forging their own path. Every once in a while, they realize, “Hey, maybe Mom wasn’t so wrong about that.” As they gain experience, they gradually realize that Mom probably gave them a good foundation on which to build their lives. This is the child who teaches you patience.

Then, there’s the child who looks at you and says, “No way, Mom – I’m going to do it my way. You don’t know what you’re talking about. My way is going to be to do whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want.” As this child grows and experiences, he or she will probably learn along the way somewhere that at least some of what Mom said may have been right, but he or she will probably continue to choose the path less traveled. They will be the one who just sees and lives life differently. This is the child who teaches you acceptance.

Then, there’s the child who says to you, “You know, you’re right, Mom, and look at what else I can learn and do because of what you taught me. And look at what I can teach you.” This is the child who reminds you of the lessons you taught him, the one who says, “It’s no big deal. Relax,” when you’re behind the wheel and the jerk in the car behind you tailgates, then quickly swings around and cuts you off. This is the child who teaches you peace. Cole was this kind of child.

Cole was born March 3, 1984, the third child of Glen Stevens and Carol (Scot) Fritzsche. His sister, Shanna (then age 5) and brother, Rory (then age 3), welcomed him into the family with open arms.

From an early age, it was apparent that Cole was very special. He was generally a calm, sensitive child, the one who took the first steps to make peace with others. Even though his sister and brother sometimes picked on him, as siblings are wont to do, he loved them relentlessly, always choosing their company and wanting to be included in their activities. The three of them could often be found together: acting out a play written by Shanna; playing with Legos with Rory; pretending to serve meals from a restaurant, with Cole often doing the cooking; creating crafts and pictures for their dad and me; and creating videos in which they pretended to be newscasters or actors in a commercial. We have precious videos of these happy times.

Whenever we traveled, Cole was always seated in the middle seat, as the youngest is usually made to do, but he was happy to be between the two he loved almost as much as Mom and Dad. On long trips, he helped keep his brother and sister entertained. One of their favorite things to do was to make Cole sing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” as loudly as he could while Shanna and Rory sang “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” as loudly as they could on either side of him. They would see how long it took for him to switch from his song to theirs. It always set them to giggling for miles at a time. Even when they were teenagers, the three of them recalled this and re-created that event.

After his father and I divorced and I remarried, Cole took things in stride, never favoring one of us over the other, always wanting to make sure he hurt no one’s feelings. His easy-going nature came so naturally to him that others were often impressed by his mature attitude. When we moved to Washington state, even though he was sad about leaving the home where he grew up and not being able to see his father as often as in the past, he was still excited about the new possibilities that lay before him. He looked forward to attending a new school, living in a new house, and making new friends. In fact, on his first day of school, he came home with two new friends who became his best friends during the two years we lived in Washington. Although Josh and Jacob Duke were several years younger than Cole, he soon became almost a big brother to them, preferring their company to that of other kids closer to his age.

Although he experienced the usual trauma of any 16-year-old – girl problems, disagreements with friends, fighting against the restraints normally felt by teens – he never lost his childlike joy in things like Dragonball Z cartoons, Power Rangers, Beast Wars, and Legos. He didn’t care who knew about his enjoyment of these things. Even though the kids at school sometimes made fun of him, he continued to enjoy these simple pleasures and found friends who enjoyed the same things.

One of his pride and joys was the Lego mansion that he and his brother designed and built in Washington and that he re-created in Virginia. It included sleeping quarters for each of the many Lego men who lived there, a big-screen TV, a satellite dish, a garage, a car wash, a drawbridge, and many other fantastic features that one would find in a mansion such as one Bill Gates would build – all made out of Legos. It was 8 feet long and 4 feet wide, taking up a large section of our living room, and we do not regret allowing him to use his creativity in such an absorbing way. His pride in his creation was evident in the 20-minute video he made of the house just prior to his leaving for Illinois in June 2000.

If there is one word I can use to describe Cole, it is “peacemaker.” Although he had his share of disagreements with others, he was most often the one to first extend the olive branch. He cared about others, hurt when he realized he hurt others, and wanted always to treat others fairly. One day during the past school year, Cole came home very upset about an incident that occurred on the school bus. The other students on the bus were making fun of a young man because he was different. Although Cole didn’t particularly consider this youngster a close friend, he believed the others on the bus were being unfair in their ridicule of the boy. He chose to stand up for him, and as a result, the others on the bus turned on him as well. Although it hurt him deeply to have his “friends” ridicule him for standing up for the boy, he didn’t back down. In the end, some of the other kids learned to respect him for what he did. Since his death, we have been struck by the number of youngsters who have come forward to speak of how much they respected Cole for standing up for what was right, for sticking by his friends, no matter the size of the bully.

One of my favorite memories of Cole is of his relating to me a simple lesson. I call it the Lesson of the Hot Coal. It is a lesson he learned in the Sunday School that he attended in Gig Harbor, Washington. One time I was watching as someone was teasing Cole. As this person’s words became more hurtful, I saw Cole cup his hands and then suddenly pull them apart, as if he were dropping something. He saw my puzzled look and asked me: “Mom, what would you do if someone threw a hot coal at you?” Of course, the answer is “I would let it fall to the ground without catching it.” He went on to explain that hurtful words are the same thing as hot coals. We can choose either to catch them and let them burn us or to let them drop to the ground where they will burn themselves out and do no harm to us. He shrugged and said, “I decided I didn’t want to catch those words.”

A simple lesson I will carry in my heart for the rest of my life.

As Cole’s friends have come forward to extend their sympathies and express their sorrow at Cole’s passing, many have asked, “What can I do?” Here is my answer:

• Read more. Read aloud to your children. Read aloud to your parents. Read to yourselves. And, for heaven's sake, read Harry Potter! Start at the beginning and read them in order, and when you’re done, start over. Or, even better, listen to the books on tape. And as you read them, picture Cole in the part of Harry. He often did, admiring Harry for his unflagging courage in the face of many different types of adversity.
  
  
• Love more. Remind your families and your friends of your love – often! Say it out loud, even when they aren’t in front of you. Yell it to the starry sky on a cool autumn night.
  
  
• Talk more. Tell your friends how important they are to you and what an impact on your life they have made. In some ways, the comments on the Web page are somewhat bittersweet to us, because we know how often Cole felt alone and ridiculed and how it may have helped him to hear how others respected him. If someone impresses you with their strength or courage or morality, tell them! Today!! Now!!!
  
  
• Hug more. Share of yourself. Open your arms wide and embrace the world. In many of the pictures of Cole, we noticed how often he posed with his arms spread wide, ready to embrace the world and to be embraced, for all to revel in his joy.
  
  
• Tuck more. Tuck your children in at night, no matter how old they are. Tuck in your spouse. Tucking Cole in every night was one of our favorite memories. It turned out to be a time of special sharing, a time when he often told us of his fears, his frustrations his dreams, his joys.
  
  
• Act more childish. Live life to its fullest every day. Find wonder in the smallest of God’s miracles. Marvel at a sunset. Thrill in the feel of rain on your face.
  
  
• Stand up against injustice more often, no matter the size of the bully or the hugeness of the injustice.
  
  
• Forgive more. Let go of the past hurts. Don’t catch the hot coals. Be a peacemaker. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.”
  
  As each of us in our way remembers Cole and allows his example to influence our lives; he lives on. We may not be able to feel him or touch him, except in our hearts, but he is certainly here with us, forever expressing God’s qualities.
  
  Thank God for the gift of Cole, for the examples he left, for the lessons he taught, for his sharing of his joy and wonder. And know that he continues to set that example as his life continues in God’s unfailing Love.
  
  By Carol Ann Skalany (Stevens) Fritzsche