My pastor recently shared a story with me. It was a story that helped me better understand the grieving process, which is something I have struggled with in the past. It went like this:

A young boy named Johnny often visited his elder neighbors, the Smiths, for about an hour as soon as he was done with school for the day. After the death of Mrs. Smith, Johnny did not return home until very late one evening. When Johnny’s mother asked where he had been, his response was simple:

“I was helping Mr. Smith cry.”

This story has stuck with me since my first hearing it and has become even more so pronounced considering the recent tragedy that has struck our small community in the Upper Peninsula.

Tragedies that result in the loss of life, especially those of young individuals, tend to be shocking when you live in a rural area. Because the U.P. seems to be such a sacred place to those who were born and choose to live here, any form of loss seems quite personal. The interconnectedness of our lives because of our location, however, works to our benefit when misfortune strikes because we can grieve as a collective.

For a majority of man’s early existence on Earth, grief was expressed in a communal setting. Whether it be unique rituals or cultural prayers, no one was left to struggle alone. To them, grief was a form of praise to be celebrated because it helped keep the memory and legacy of loved ones alive.

While the modern shift in western societal norms has tended to punish any outward expression of grief, the recent tragedy within our community seems to have marked a significant change.

Coupled with condolences and the recollection of fond memories with the affected parties, community action seemed to grow exponentially as the news of the event spread. Social media accounts across all platforms were soon covered with information regarding things like keychains and stickers for sale, benefits, and a GoFundMe page. All of these, and I am sure much more, gained an overwhelming amount of attention from community members.

The support for those affected has exceeded any bounds that seemed to stratify local communities before. Decades-long school rivalries did not stand in the way of sports teams and fans bearing orange and black at high school games in the past two weeks. Funds were raised and merchandise was sold at these events, without hesitation by administrators, to help support the cause. Several U.P. universities that host alumni from Escanaba showed their support with fundraising efforts as well.

Not only have educational institutions become involved, but several local businesses have also donated their revenue from specific days to help support the affected family. Even large chains, like Culver’s and Krist Oil, have pledged to donate.

Having this strong communal bond makes the grieving process much more bearable. Refer back to the story about Johnny. A young boy, who probably does not fully comprehend the concept of death, sat and cried with an older gentleman who had just lost the love of his life. Rather than trying to distract Mr. Smith or tell him “it is going to be okay,” he chose to simply sit and be with the older man as he mourned.

Johnny did not need to understand, just like we do not need to understand the emotions that those directly affected by the event are feeling. Our presence and outreach are enough.

In a time when it seems easy to feel alone or incredibly distant from our neighbors, seeing everyone unite for one purpose — to help a family grieve — is not only beautiful but a testament to the kind-hearted spirit that is often associated with Yoopers.

We have learned and demonstrated that grief is not something that should be kept hidden. Instead, grief is something that ties us all together and helps define what it truly means to be human.

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Andie Balenger is a native of Gladstone and is currently attending Northern Michigan University. Her column focuses on college life and runs Thursdays in the Daily Press.