I stood on Greek row with a candle in my hand. How was this the fourth time I had done this in my two short years at Georgia Southern?

As a freshman at Georgia Southern, I learned all too quickly how short life really is. I stood outside a sorority house on a warm September night as I listened to the silent crying of the chapter who had just lost someone they loved. On April 22, I sat in the library as I got the horrible news that five nursing students had passed away in a car accident. Four of those students were members of the Greek life community.

Starting my sophomore year, my heart ached for the chapters that had lost someone, but I went in with the attitude that things had to get better, and they most certainly couldn’t get worse. And I wish I could say they did.

Tragedy struck my own chapter when my Little passed away. And it didn’t stop there. My chapter was one of five this school year to have lost a member. As I sat in my bed writing this, I wondered what God’s plan was for our school.

When I lost my Little, in the midst of the horrible sadness, something amazing happened. I have never felt a bigger outpouring of love in my whole life. People were calling, texting, Facebooking, tweeting, emailing, and whatever other way they could contact me to express their condolences. Every house sent flowers and hundreds of people flooded Greek row for her memorial. In that moment I realized how true a cheesy saying I heard my freshman year was: "No matter the letter, we're all tied together."

We as a Greek community have faced immense tragedy, but through that we’ve gained something hard to find: a strong bond. A bond that is kept together by the familiar sting of death and the support from each other we use to get through it.

I couldn't be more thankful to attend a school where not just my sorority, but the entire Greek community has become like my family. Through both tragedy and triumph, I couldn't be prouder to wear my Greek letters.