I had a rare Friday afternoon off yesterday, and I had a long list of things I planned to do. The Christmas tree was still waiting patiently on the deck.
All the way home from work, I sang along with the Christmas carols playing on the radio and looked forward to the fun I would have decorating the house. Christmas brings out the child in everyone.
My husband was waiting at home for me, and I heard the TV as I climbed the front stairs. He pointed to the screen, and I watched with horror the news on CNN.
Just like everyone else, I began to cry as I learned that 20 young children had been gunned down at a school in Connecticut and questioned how something like this could happen.
Every Tuesday I bring my three-year-old grandson to preschool at an elementary school in a nearby town. It’s hard to contain his excitement as we drive to school. I hold his tiny hand tightly as he skips and jumps all the way through the parking lot.
I push the buzzer, identify ourselves and wait for clearance. Then we climb the stairs and wait outside the classroom, joining all the other mothers, fathers, grandmothers, grandfathers, aunts, uncles and other caretakers holding hands with their little ones.
When the teacher walks down the corridor, the children scream with delight: “Miss Amy! Miss Amy!” And this very special teacher smiles and welcomes each one of them with open arms.
But now in the aftermath of this senseless tragedy, will teachers, parents and children ever feel safe again?
I abandoned my well laid-out plans, and my husband and I drove to Fogland Beach.
The tide was at its lowest point exposing rocks that rarely surface during the course of the year. More exposed beaches like this one tend to have steeper slopes and coarser sediments because the waves come in at an angle and are not parallel to the shore when they break. Consequently, the water and its sediment follow a zigzag path down the beach, which is called the littoral drift.
Looking at the indiscriminant piles of sand dotting the beach and deep gullies, I felt exposed like those rocks, drifting in a sea of confusion.
Oh, God, I prayed. Deliver us from evil.