On Feb. 15, 1987 one of the brightest stars in heaven visited earth for only a short time. She was an optimistic person, a hardworking student, a talented artist, a good friend, and a beloved family member. That star was my sister, Laryssa Veronika Falkowski.

On Jan. 18 of this year Laryssa passed away in a car accident only blocks and minutes away from her soon-to-be family alma mater, Hicksville High School. The outpouring from the community of friends and strangers was overwhelming, but understandable for a young lady with yet so much to offer to the world. Scholarships were created, concert performances were dedicated, artwork was inspired, and books were donated.

Battles were also fought. During the week preceding Laryssa's graduation, in June 2005, I consulted with her principal about how her dynamic personality should be memorialized during the graduation ceremonies. I was informed that Laryssa's name would neither be spoken nor would it appear in the program since she had not fulfilled the requirements of a New York State high school diploma. When asked if it would be a different matter if one of Laryssa's parents were on the school board, she replied that it would not change things. Later on in the week, only after my speaking to my former colleagues at the middle school as well as some Hicksville residents, did the principal inform me that indeed Laryssa's name would appear in the program after all.

However, she again refused to make any acknowledgment of my sister's contributions to Hicksville High School during the graduation. I informed her that I was not satisfied and that I would appeal to the superintendent of schools the following day. After many phone messages between the superintendent and myself, we met in person to discuss the issue. The superintendent told me that, in fact, Laryssa would be mentioned during the graduation although she did not know in what manner. I had thought that the superintendent had final say on certain district matters, and was always kept abreast of graduation ceremony programs. After I questioned her about the sudden change of the principal's decision she snapped, "Do you want her name mentioned or not?"

Under similar circumstances in other schools an empty seat had been left for students who had passed on. Hicksville High School chose not to follow suit, and no seat was left for my sister, her name was not read with her peers, and no honorary was bestowed. I released a single dove as the principal encapsulated Laryssa's 17 years in a mere 17 words. And then it was over. Over for everyone except for her family and friends.

According to the district, Billy Joel was given an official New York State High School Diploma, not an honorary one. He was given life experience for his English credit and was exempted from physical education. But the district stands by the rule in my sister's case that there is no excuse for not achieving all the parameters for graduation. Laryssa was an honors student who had been accepted to college, and would have graduated in the top echelon of her class. A district sensitive to its community could acknowledge what she had accomplished.

Some say that time heals all wounds. But others say that it only cuts those wounds more deeply. The Hicksville Public School administrators had a chance to make things better. Instead, they did things their way. Yesterday is over, but today I have some unanswered questions for the Hicksville residents to ponder:

• Why was it such a struggle for me to have Laryssa's name spoken during the ceremony?

• The Hicksville Middle School principal gave a lovely speech about a student who had passed away the previous year. Why couldn't a similar high school graduation speech be given about my sister?

• Why is it against Hicksville Public School policy to bestow honorary certificates?

• Why do some people follow the letter of the law, rather than the spirit of the law?

• Why won't Hicksville Public Schools advocate for their students in Albany so that their families might receive posthumous diplomas?

Our prayers are with Laryssa.

Kristina Holzweiss-Uihlein and Family