Only Tears...

I haven't posted in a few days because I've been sick.  Staying home from work sick again today, I happened to have my local CBS on as I dozed...

I don't know if you all know, but most of you do. I live in Connecticut. I work in Massachussetts. I am a youth services librarian, which means I work with children from birth to age eighteen. 

What I saw on the news today absolutely broke my heart. I have spent most of the day crying. 

I almost want to believe that I've dreamed it all, but the wonders of the internet and television have absolutely proved that that is in no way possible.  Some bastard (and yes, I do not hesitate to call this psychopath that) actually entered a school in my home state and not only shot six adults, but shot and killed 20...20 children.

This was an elementary school.  The majority of the children that died were in Kindergarten.

WHO THE HELL WOULD KILL AN INNOCENT CHILD IN KINDERGARTEN??

I do between two and three storytimes on any given week for three to five year olds.  These are children that are just entering preschool.  These are the faces of the best of our society. They do not yet understand prejudice.  They do not hate based on race, creed, or any of the other things that adults like to find to hate in one another. While they may have a temper tantrum and tell you they hate you, these children do not even really understand what they means. They only echo what we model for them.

No child has ever given cause for an adult to enter one of their safe environments and to start killing without reason.  Ever.

As I keep watching the news and feeling tears burn in my eyes again and again, all I can think of is the precious kids who come to my storytimes.  The little girl that tells me every week how she loves dinosaurs and that her favorite movie is "Ponyo." Her little friend whose grandmother tells me how they sing the name game song at home for fun and that she loves my reading rhyme.  The little boy that wants to grow up to be Spiderman.  The little boy that loves to dance more than anything. The little boy who, now that he has a brand new baby brother, keeps telling me what a "big boy" he is...

My heart is just broken and there is nothing but tears.  I can only promise you all that I will pray for the families of those who lost their little ones (and the teachers, administrators, and the Principal who tried to protect them) and that I will make sure that in this awful world where these things keep happening, I will continue to tell those that I love that I love them as often as I can and I will hug the children in my life as often as I can.