Zahra Baker was born in Wagga Wagga in New South Wales, Australia on November the 16th, 1999 to Emily Dietrich and Adam Baker. By October of 2010, she had moved nearly a dozen times and landed on a different continent a world away in North Carolina. She had attended several different schools, battled cancer twice, lost her left leg from the knee down and part of her ability to hear. She had been raised by her mother, father, grandparents and then back to her father and a step-mother. Despite what seemed to be a loving environment in Australia, her home life in the United States was rumored to be difficult. Amidst allegations of abuse and neglect, the courageous little girl still seemed to have the spirit of a lion.
As of this writing, it is not clearly known what struggles Zahra Clare Baker faced in her final months or even years of life. If you believe all the rumors, she was punished cruelly and kept in her room most of the time. A photo surfaced that showed her with a black eye. There were accusations that her step-mother, Elisa Baker, had forced her to march up a hill on her poorly fitting prosthetic leg as a punishment. She witnessed extreme arguments between her dad and step-mother that grew out of control and even lead to eviction at one residence, according to the landlords. She was only given five minutes to eat her dinner, said another witness. Drugs were being sold out of their house, said others.
On October the 9th, 2010, events at the Baker house unfolded to reveal a shocking fact. Zahra was missing and nobody had actually seen her in weeks. Possibly months. A bizarre fire in the early morning hours set into motion a chain of events that would quickly lead to finding the little girl's body in pieces in several different locations. The facts played out like a horror movie. The child who had battled through so much in her short life had somehow ended up dead, dismembered and tossed out like garbage in wooded areas amongst trash and deer carcasses. Though the step-mother was quickly made out to be the villain, she is the one who eventually lead law enforcement to the body. In letters written from jail, she contended that neither her nor Zahra's father, Adam, had killed the child, but said Adam had done something horrific with the remains. Adam had little to say after reporting Zahra missing and still remains quiet for the most part, even after the discovery of his daughter's corpse. His quiet demeanor, complacent attitude, and failure to display any emotion has not garnered him much sympathy.
The world has fallen in love with Zahra Baker, but too late to render any aid. Too late to relieve her pain and suffering. Too late to show her the love and kindness that she deserved. Too late to spoil the little girl who had conquered so much in her life. Too late to tell her how precious she was. Too late to avert the tragedy that awaited her. It hurts to be a day late and a dollar short, and so we hurt. We hurt for the little girl who never knew we would care. We wonder where the next Zahra will come from. Is she our neighbor? Our student? A relative? Did we walk past her in the grocery store and not notice her? We wish for magical spells and potions that could draw us a map to every Zahra Baker's house so that we can be on time with a dollar to spare. Perhaps the magic is simply taking every opportunity to let people know we care while we still have that chance.
