We weren't sure if we should talk to Luke about what happened last Friday in Newtown, CT. We thought he was too young. We kept the tv off, we didn't talk about it in front of him. And in the end, before we had a chance, before he even went back to school, he found out about it. We didn't know until a few hours after he had heard the news, sitting in his pjs in the recliner with John. He told him about how some guy shot a teacher, the kids in the classroom and then shot himself. We talked about it in simple terms. We told him school was safe (are we lying by saying that? Is school safe?) and he told us that he wasn't scared he was just really sad. He thought his friend wasn't telling him the truth, he thought it was just a fake story.
I wish to God it was just a fake story.
I am ashamed and sad that he didn't hear about it from us first. We can't live in a bubble but how much do you share?
None of it makes sense. But I do know that my faith in humanity was restored this morning at church. I was holding Ellie on my lap, she was whispering "I love you" in my ear and the congregation sang Let There Peace on Earth. Please, let there be peace on earth.