Living a Life of Spiritual Substance: Remembering Danielle Oliver

"I don't care how long I live, I just want to live a truthful life that's filled with spiritual substance," wrote my family friend Danielle Oliver years before her passing on October 29, 2025, at age 51.

She did exactly that. She reminded us that life isn't measured by what we physically acquire but by the kind of person we become and what we have done in the path of God. She was in awe of this quote from Baha'u'llah, the prophet and founder of the Baha'i Faith. He wrote:

Blessed is the soul which, at the hour of its separation from the body, is sanctified from the vain imaginings of the peoples of the world. Such a soul liveth and moveth in accordance with the Will of its Creator, and entereth the all-highest Paradise.

The Maids of Heaven, inmates of the loftiest mansions, will circle around it, and the Prophets of God and His chosen ones will seek its companionship. With them that soul will freely converse, and will recount unto them that which it hath been made to endure in the path of God, the Lord of all worlds.

"It makes me so happy to just know that all of the prophets are going to gather around us once we finish our life goals (no hurry—lol) and move on to heaven," wrote Danielle. "I love witnessing people enthusiastically demonstrating the spiritual laws and character virtues of Abdu'l-Baha, Baha'u'llah, etc.—they had so much pure innocent love for the earth."

In her final years, she was immersed in prayer and meditation, delving into the Baha'i writings. Her sister Jeannine Oliver remarked at her funeral that you could tell which prayer book in the house was Danielle's because of how worn it looked.

I had the honor of helping to plan and MC her memorial service. When I think about the time she spent with my family and me, memories flash through my mind in different phases. A memory of her treating my family to dinner came to mind from when I was in elementary school. I remember the joy on her face when she saw our surprised smiles—she had made our day, and that made hers. When I was in high school and college, the memories morphed into moments of advice. I recall her telling me in high school that people underestimate the intelligence of an attractive woman. I don't recall what led to that comment—perhaps my participation in the Miss Maryland Teen pageant? In college, before I studied abroad, she expressed her concern for my safety and told me to "trust no one." In my early adult years, I recall her coming to our home to visit often. Although her illness made her paranoid, she still always felt safe with us. And now, I can't stop thinking about what she wrote years before: "I don't care how long I live..." It was as if she knew. That truth will always stay with me.

While my mom, Barbara Talley, and I were reading her Facebook reflections from 2011 for inspiration as we created the program and narrated video of her life, I realized how much we had in common, and I felt closer to her.

We shared similar paths in high school and college: We both participated in a teen pageant, majored in communication, and were fascinated by psychology.

We shared similar values: We embraced our natural curls, avoided all drugs and alcohol, were both modest and didn't, in her words, "dress to tempt," believed in chastity and celibacy while waiting for the right person, were often asked why we weren't married yet, and why we weren't, in her words, "getting to know tons of men."

We shared similar passions: We both loved the color pink, wanted to help people through our calling, enjoyed public speaking, understood the significance of dreams, were passionate about the environment, recognized the healing power of the arts, and took pride in being Baha'is.

Danielle Oliver

"Are you spiritually chiseled?" she asked everyone in her posts. As my mom and I kept reading what was on Danielle's mind each day, I marveled at how detached she was from this physical, material world and realized her thoughts were already in the eternal kingdom years before she was granted admittance there. There is a lot we can all learn from her depth, spirituality, and beautiful heart.

When I participated in the Baha'i ritual of washing, perfuming, and dressing the body before burial with my mom, Neshat Tebyanian, Danielle's mother—Maxine Oliver—and Susan Troxel, I gently brushed her hair and placed the burial ring I got for her on her finger. We all noticed that her face looked serene. Jeannine and I started referring to her as "Sleeping Beauty." After years of physical suffering, we can all take solace in knowing that she is now finally at peace. Sleeping Beauty has awakened in paradise.