(From Chalsey T., 30, second-generation member of the Family International)

Some say it’s the unique way I live that caused my friends’ lives to be violently ended. If truth still interests you, read on.

A newly married 30 year old, I’ve been with the Family International from birth. Looking back on my childhood, teenage and young adult years, I vividly remember the unconditional love I daily received. I have had the privilege to lead a full and rich life. Enviable.

You’d think I was celebrity-to-be. Imagine this: constant attention, very caring and dedicated parents, plenty of childish joys, every kind of outing or excursion a child could wish for, good education, vocational training by professionals, opportunities to learn anything I wished to, visiting locations around the globe that many only dream of, living in spacious houses with beautiful gardens, all my physical needs met, health care adequately provided for, abundant gifts and presents, and most importantly, an opportunity to know Jesus personally. My parents, and those I lived with, gave me their best. Angela was one of them who stepped into my life when I was 16.

She was amazing. It seemed she could do anything—from cooking, sewing and home making, to advanced secretarial skills, from making children laugh, to teaching the Bible. The list would be too long to fit here. She lived for two main purposes, or so it seemed: to give generously and to make others’ lives better. At an age when teens generally criticize adults, I never found anything I didn’t like about her. It impressed me the way she would give away anything she had that others showed the slightest interest in. Like the gold earrings I simply borrowed once, that she gave to me in a wink, along with a set of clothes. She was just that way. The only thing she truly held dear, it seemed, was friendship and love. Material possessions could come and go.

Her genuine care for others made people of all ages enjoy her company. She wasn’t one to hold grudges; she saw no point in it. The words I remember most frequently on her lips were, “You’re wonderful! I love you!” She had a hearty laugh and big smile. She worked hard, doing countless things each day. No matter how tired she may have felt at times, she acted as if she truly enjoyed every minute of it. She was enthusiastic, lively, truly living for others.

I knew Ricky since I was 14. As a teen he was fun loving. I was never his girlfriend, but being his age, we had teenage fun together with our friends. We laughed a lot, played cards, watched movies, hiked, canoed, picnicked in the woods, danced, played board games when the weather was too bad to do anything else, went camping, fished, bowled, took educational courses, caroled at Christmas in homes for the elderly, went to fairs, amusement parks, visited museums that interested us, listened to music. When I lived with him and his wife later in Europe, as a young adult, he was sincere, genuine, well adjusted, helpful, hardworking, kind, gentle, calm, easy going, had a tender and caring heart, and was enjoyable to talk with.

I guess he wanted a break from the life of constant giving that we have chosen to lead. I accepted that. It’s certainly not for everyone. But then something got to him. I didn’t let myself believe it was the same person who began to say and write such ludicrous and hurtful things. I told myself someone was pretending. Perhaps it was just a trick. It didn’t seem right after knowing him. Now the facts are painfully clear. It was no game. The question I have is what got into his head? What changed him from the gentle, fun, caring guy I knew, into someone who would commit such a heartlessly violent act? A lot has to do with choices, I know. But what happened that turned him into something he never was?

Will I forgive him? I already have–because Angela would want it that way. That’s how she was. It’s obvious in the way she risked her life to be a friend. And it cost her blood. The kind of love she held, not even death can silence. If I could hear a dying wish from her lips, she’d probably want to say, “Keep on loving—I’m going on to greater things. Forgive him—bitterness and anger will only hurt the one who holds it.”

As I see it, it’s a war of love versus hate. It cost my friend her life to give love. What can I say? When you’ve found the genuine article, and you know it without shadow of doubt, no amount of discreditation, intimidation, fear tactics, allures, smooth maneuvers or violent acts can get you to trade it for some counterfeit. Nothing can compare to the reality of love that I experience daily, and the satisfaction of having and reaching goals that matter, and result in lives changed for the better.

I honestly don’t give a damn what anyone says or does to try to take this away from me and the millions who desperately need and appreciate what we’re offering. “Over my dead body” is all I can say. Even if it eventually costs my life at the hand of the vicious and malicious, I’m determined to carry on giving God’s love and care to others.

The fear tactics being used, in hopes of smothering the flame of my devotion to Jesus and service to others, won’t work. Dampen my fire? It’s unwittingly been ignited beyond hope of quenching.

Chalsey T. is a second generation member of the Family International.