Ann Dee has done a great job with this advent.
Are you writing Christmas miracles? We need them.
It has felt, to me, that the world has come to a screeching halt.
There are no adequate words.
I’ve been crying since the tragic Connecticut shooting.
Can this be real?
Can this have happened?
Would someone actually go to a class of such young people, into the classroom of BABIES, and shoot them multiple times?
How could he frighten them in such a terrible way, and then kill them?
Why would he do it?
And how could anyone make light of this terrible situation, as has happened since?
How do you tell the younger sibling of a six-year-old that their brother or sister, their best friend, their playmate, is never coming home again?
The questions get darker, get harder, and I hold them in, say them to no one, don’t even let them out of my mouth.
Since this awful event, this terrible tragedy, I have worried what I can do.
Pray, yes. Beg God for relief to those who must be in agony.
Say the proper words to those I love. How they have made my life what it is, how good it is.
Hug my girls. Tight, too tight, whispering against their hair even though they are as old as the youngest teacher killed.
But what else?
There must be something.
Remember, yes, remember.
Here are their names. As I read through tiny bios, I’ve wept again and again. The list grew so long that I couldn’t keep track. So many. So many.
First, the babies:
Madeleine F. Hsu
Catherine V. Hubbard
Allison N. Wyatt
And those who tried to save them:
Anne Marie Murphy
But I want something more physical, I want–in some way–to help, and I will continue to consider this.
My words are weak. They tremble. There is no power.
Still I must say,
I am so sorry for this great loss. I am so sorry to all who loved these women and children. I am so sorry for those who suffered a loss that will completely change them.
I am so sorry for our country.