Sam Owen was twelve and full of hopes and dreams.
In March his pink cheeks turned gray.
All the love and support and medicine in the world couldn't make those cheeks pink again.
Sam Owen turned thirteen last week in a hospital bed.
His best friend read Sam's Bar Mitzvah while his dad held his hand.
Days later the motorcade that made the somber trip along the blue you can live forever lakes stretched for devastated wretched mournful miles and miles.
Sam Owen was a beautiful beloved boy.
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