Maybe it's because there was something about 7-year-old Lily Boynton's smile that reminds me so much of one of my daughters when she was that age.

My kid has grown up healthy and strong.

Lily is dying.

She's got a rare childhood cancer with a big, fancy name — hepablastoma — that has done its insidious work on the liver she received in a transplant two years ago.

A group of bikers called Motorcycles Ice Cream Run for Kids Sake did a nice thing along with the local Wal-Mart to sponsor a $1,100 shopping spree for Lily last Sunday.

Lily got a lot of clothes she probably won't get to wear and toys she won't have much time to play with. Doctors say she probably won't live more than two more weeks.

On Sunday, she got to sit on Santa's lap, and our photograph caught her "Isn't this great?" smile.

Our correspondent was there at the invitation of the bikers group, but I couldn't help feeling that we were somehow intruding on what perhaps should have been a special, private time.

Our story and photo appeared at the top of Page 3, and how I wish our headline hadn't read: "Bikers take dying girl on holiday shopping trip."

A headline without the word "dying" in it might have enabled her grandparents to let the little girl see her picture in the paper. Maybe it would have made her smile that wonderful smile.

Our story said her grandparents are her caretakers. I don't know anything about Lily's parents or why they weren't there for her. The grandparents appear to be loving and caring, but I can't help but wonder why this poor kid has been deprived of so much.

I suppose it's natural to question why God would afflict this sweet little girl with such a short and painful life. What possible sense can all her suffering make when there are evil people around the world living long lives in apparent luxury?

Why are so many thousands of children — many younger than Lily — dying of AIDS in Africa? Why does it seem that there is so much injustice everywhere I look?

Then I remember something.

I don't know how a water faucet works.

I turn the handle and water comes out, but I don't have the faintest idea what makes that happen.

So, where does a guy who doesn't even know how the damn faucet works get off questioning the judgment of the Almighty, who after all, created the whole, vast universe?

The answer is, I can't. I don't know why sometimes bad things happen to good people. But I'm pretty sure God knows. That's really the only way tragic events such as Lily's make any sense.

I know several local parents who have lost children to accident or illness, and I can't begin to understand how they have persevered with such incredible courage.

Thinking about those folks and reading about Lily made me ashamed of myself for some of the petty things that have gotten me upset lately.

• I haven't been able to park in front of my house very often because of the snotty college students in nearby rentals who take what should be my spot.

• My grownup kids insist on making their own decisions about their own lives.

• The Yankees lost Andy Pettitte to the Astros.

I told you they were petty things.

The same deity who decided for whatever reason to give Lily the life she leads has been incredibly kind to me and to so many of you. But I can't begin to fathom why.

This week, kids will be greedily ripping open gifts they receive for Christmas and Hanukkah. Some will feel sorry for themselves because they didn't get everything they wanted.

You know, that's OK. Oh, it's terrific when we hear about kids who do charitable things for those less-fortunate, but childhood should also be a time to be carefree and take some things for granted.

I mentioned that Lily's cancer is rare. That's the good news — that most kids grow up.

As for Lily, her grandmother Helen Boynton said she can't persuade doctors to give Lily another liver transplant. Boynton sobbed as the bikers guided Lily with her yellowed skin and intermittent cough on her shopping spree.

"She's a wonderful kid," Grandma said. "She's a fighter."

Like I said, I've never met Lily, but I'd like to think that some of those who read about her and saw her picture in the paper will remember her for a long time.

I know I will remember that smile.

Sam Pollak is editor of The Daily Star. He can be reached at spollak@thedailystar or at (607) 432-1000, Ext. 208.