It was a bright summer day in South Africa, and the old year was coming to a close. Thoughts had turned from Christmas celebrations to New Year’s resolutions.

The farmhouse door clanged behind me as I went into the kitchen. My mother followed my gaze to a heaping bowl of strawberries on the table. “Yvonna brought those over,” she said. “A gift from her family.”

I found the generosity of our neighbors almost awkward. Our volunteer center occupied the largest and nicest house in the neighborhood. With our growing staff we needed the space. We had six young volunteers in training plus a lot of children, so this small farming community with its low rent and utility rates was perfect for our needs.

Yvonna was a teenager who lived two houses down. Like most families in the village, I knew hers had tended the strawberry fields behind their house for months. In the most celebrated strawberry-growing area in South Africa, they cultivated the plump ruby fruits in their off-hours to supplement their meager income. Yet every harvest, our neighbors came to our door with their arms full of strawberries.

Yvonna had been asking for Bible studies for some time, but we had been genuinely busy and kept putting it off. I sighed and resolved to get Yvonna started on those classes soon.

My family always celebrated New Year’s Eve together, and close friends would come for a candlelight get-together. Each person, down to the youngest, would light a small candle from a large central one that symbolized Jesus. Then they would share the things they were most thankful for about the last year, and also their hopes and prayers for the New Year.

That night I publicly forgave a friend for a wrong that had made my life emotionally difficult for the past few weeks. It felt so good to get it off my chest that I wished I had done it earlier. Other people talked about wanting to do more for the local community. We all agreed. The New Year was the perfect time to get more involved.

New Year’s Day dawned bright and full of promise. But Yvonna was not there to see it. She had been killed in an auto accident shortly after midnight.

Everyone in our center was deeply affected by the loss of our friend. In the months that followed we found ways to comfort Yvonna’s family, and the community was brought closer together. Many young people, especially, came to us with questions about life, death, and the spiritual realm, which we were happy to answer. Yvonna was already a believer, and I’m certain that from somewhere behind the scenes she has seen the positive effects of her passing and been gratified.

Each New Year since, as the fireworks dissolved in the New Year sky, I have thought about Yvonna and renewed my resolution to not wait for the “perfect” time to do the things that really matter.

Saskia Smith is a member of the Family International in Taiwan.