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.
I teach fifth grade.
ReplyDeleteDec.14th was the worst day of my 25 year professional life.
It has been so hard to celebrate, to laugh with my students, to joyfully embrace my own children.
I'm so sad for my country, and I am absolutely determined to work for gun control.