We all have a life to live.
There are good times and bad times – from precious moments to tremendous achievements to the loss of loved ones. While unpleasant, those losses can be thought of as a function of life; a page turned to tomorrow.
For some, those chances at living and experiencing the rush of new experiences and milestones are cut short through no fault of their own.
Such was the case for Tori Stafford, the young girl from Woodstock who was kidnapped, raped, murdered and whose body was eventually found in Wellington North Township.
We have avoided reading the details of the court case, having been filled in on details months ago by a colleague from her hometown. That was enough. The day her body was exhumed from its make-shift grave crowned with fieldstone and transported away, the countryside seemed to stop that day.
Until that point, most of us knew of Tori only by a media photo, complete with a butterfly barrette that any of our kids might wear as an accessory – so pretty and wide-eyed to the world. All the dreams and potential of such a young soul were dashed by monsters. The culprits got life – although they stole one.
We hope Tori’s spirit can now fly with butterflies, never to be hurt again. Fly little butterfly, fly.
