I never knew Molly Hightower, yet the sound of her name has become as familiar to me as that of someone I've known my whole life.

Last week when Haiti was struck by a devastating earthquake, our little town was shaken harder than one would expect for a place so far away from the actual incident. Who ever thought that a small Finnish community in Washington state, and a tiny impoverished country thousands of miles away would ever be as connected as they are? As soon as we heard of the quake, our hearts and minds immediately went to those connections: Jeff and Katie's soon-to-be adopted daughter lives in Haiti. Andre, a missionary that the Valley Bible Church supports, lives in Haiti. Christina, my Mom's co-worker -- and very, very dear friend -- has a niece who also lives in Haiti.

We see on the news one natural disaster after another, and we see the people affected by it -- and while we hurt and pray for them, we never really understand what it is that they're going through. We see, but don't feel what it is to lose everything, or to wonder if your loved one has survived. Suddenly, the people of our town were thrown into the midst of how it feels to go through each day without knowing whether to celebrate a life, or mourn a loss. Watching people that we know and love so dearly wonder whether they've lost their child, their niece, or their friend was... There isn't a word for it. There shouldn't be a word for it...

After many days of worry and prayer, we got word that Andre was safe, as well as Jeff and Katie's little girl. We were so immensely grateful for answered prayer. It was like a huge weight had been lifted, but we were still waiting for information about Christina's niece -- her niece, Molly.

Her story was all over the news; the story of the Port Orchard girl who selflessly left her life in the States behind to care for special needs orphans in Haiti -- the story of a girl who gave her life for those orphans.

The news of Molly's death was hard for everyone -- it was hard for me. Over the few days that I had known her name and her story, I had felt a strange bond with her that I still can't explain. I don't know if it's because of our connection through her Aunt's friendship with my Mom, because her work with orphans is something that I've always cared so passionately about, or because of our shared faith... Maybe it's a combination of all three. Whatever the reason, I found myself grieving this girl. I still find myself grieving her.

Molly has a blog on this site: http://mollyinhaiti.blogspot.com/ My Mom and I started reading it a couple days before we heard the tragic news. Reading the words of this amazing girl has inspired me to do more with my life. Not to just dream about doing it -- but to actually do it.

The way her life has inspired me is similar to the way I've been inspired by the life of Jonathan Larson -- the composer of the Broadway musical 'Rent'. Both used their talents to better the lives of other people, and both lived lives that were all too short. What really struck me about the similarities in how I've been affected by them, was what I found in one number and seven simple words: 525, 600 minutes; how do you measure a year? It's a line from one of Jonathan Larson's songs -- also the name of Molly's blog. How interesting is it that this girl who has inspired me so much, was deeply touched enough by the words of a man who has also given me much inspiration, that she titled her blog with them?

If anyone knows 'Rent', you know that it's more about the moral of the story than the actual story, and Molly's life encompassed it: live your life for every moment, love people for who they are, and give a little of yourself to help someone else. Maybe that's another way in which I feel bonded to her -- we've both been inspired by the music of this show.

Please visit Molly's blog. Read about the incredible work she did and about the children she loved. Let her life inspire you to do more for this world.