The call Angela made was to Joanne Cacciatore, the founder of The MISS Foundation. In 1994, Joanne lost her daughter, Cheyenne. Joanne's path out of the depths of despair included a period of self-examination. "The death of a child seems so out of the natural order of life that it is hard to endure something like this without having faith in a higher power—something bigger than us," she said.

At that point in her life, Joanne considered herself an atheist. Losing her daughter sent her on a quest for God. She describes it like this: "I began by just saying, 'Okay God, I don't know if you exist but I can't do this alone, so if you are there, please help me—give me a sign.' Nothing happened right away…and then, what came was very subtle. Perhaps God had always been standing there saying 'Hello Joanne'…and I just didn't hear because I wasn't listening. I don't know for sure, but what I do know that I got signs from God that He was there with me. I felt reinforcement."

In standing up to and facing down her grief, Joanne volunteered at a local support group and then went on to found The MISS Foundation. Her healing was the catalyst to reaching out and helping others on the same journey.

Joanne said she encourages parents who are grieving to find quiet time. "I don't care whether you call it meditating, sitting quietly or praying, but I tell them to be alone and be silent. There is tremendous value in this practice. When you are alone and still, you will find your spirituality, the sense that there is something bigger than you that helps. And you will find answers. It may not be right away and it may not be the answers you want. I wanted my daughter back. Obviously that is not what happened, but I eventually found peace, a lot of peace. I always think of Cheyenne, but I am at peace now."

Angela's relationship with God was central to her own healing, but she is careful about talking too much spirituality when she works with others. At first, there needs to be a quiet support without too many words.

"First of all," she says, "you do not intrude, particularly when you don't know what others believe. At the outset, I am most likely to say something like 'I am very sorry for your loss' and perhaps, 'You are in my prayers.' Even people of faith aren't necessarily always ready to hear you talk about God in their first days and weeks after their loss. Often there is lots of anger and sometimes it's directed to God."

Pat, of Grief Watch, feels, though, that anger doesn't need to be the end of the story. "It is okay to be angry with God," she says. "Just don't stop the dialogue." She has seen that people who turn to God, even in anger, come back deeper in their trust and faith. Through wrestling with difficult issues, true trust is learned and a spiritual transformation takes place.

Angela doesn't necessarily know a lot about the people she helps until the meetings she facilitates begin. Mainly she finds out about them as they come in and sit down. She listens carefully as they speak and then she draws upon what she has learned along the way. "I do of course pray—I ask God to put the words in my heart and in my mouth that are needed."

"When grieving parents come to a support group and see others who have gone through what they are experiencing—they see them smiling and laughing—it gives them hope." As people come in, Angela explained, "I hold out my hand [literally and metaphorically] and embrace them in love."

The loss of a child causes a lot of questioning. And the answers that come are unique to each one who asks. One clear answer is to reach out and comfort others on the same journey—walking the same road with them.