I wanted to write about the little lacy handkerchiefs I received from my great-grandmother for birthdays and holidays as a child.
But I couldn’t get the most recent school shootings out of head so that will have to wait until another day.
So today I sit at my keyboard with a broken heart, shattered for the senseless loss of three 9-year-old children and three adults who were killed in Nashville, Tennessee. The Covenant School, a Christian learning facility located in an affluent neighborhood, became the site of a bloody battle between good and evil.
The shooter was heavily armed with pistols and automatic weapons.
The local authorities have discovered that this attack was well planned and many more would have been killed if it were not for the swift reaction of five courageous police officers. Thankfully, the shooter was shot and killed within 14 minutes of the initial call.
Now that was 14 of the longest minutes for those other students and staff barricaded within the fortress of what should be a safe haven of learning for our children.
My granddaughter will be 9 years old on April 14. She’s bright and beautiful and so full of life. She tumbles and loves horses, and has so much more to see and learn.
Her giggles are music to my ears and one hug just melts me.
These youngsters killed were all of that to their families, too. How does one continue to live a life after such a tragedy?
Now of course, this recent evil will be blamed on an inanimate object. Instead of placing the blame on the individual who pulled the trigger. The newscasts will be overflowing with the same old dribbling monologue. Biden will be making his empty promises to save the children like the broken record that he is. And voila, nothing will be done. The fact is, it never will be until mental health is addressed in this country. In the last 25 years, we’ve seen a significant drop in discipline in schools and in homes. Both parents are working to make ends meet and feed a family.
I’m not a particular fan of guns. But I’m definitely an advocate for armed guards in schools protecting our most valuable assets. I can promise you I’d be a pistol packing Gramma should I ever witness someone threatening a child!
Drugs are running rampant and easily accessible to anyone wishing to partake. And children are now being given the authority to chose their gender. It’s no wonder we’re all at our wits end.
And as I repeat myself again, God is no where to be found. The world is spinning way too fast.
I don’t profess to be a scholar and my gibberish is mostly fluff. I’m just a mother and a grandmother. But you know what? I was given the most high of positions in this world: to be a part of the village it takes to mold children into responsible adults. Adults who know the difference between right and wrong and live by the Golden Rule. I can only hope that the many years I’ve spent trying to set a good example has paid off during the elementary years and pre-school years when my son was growing up. And now, with my grandchildren and the many other youngsters I’ve crossed paths with. All those little Virgilina Elementary kids and the high school gang that drove me batty and made my hair turn grey. I loved them all.
This most recent shooting weighs heavy on my heart. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m sick of our leaders fighting and not protecting these babies. And we’re all helpless without the Holy Spirit’s guidance. I’m left with the song, “Bless The Beast And The Children” playing over and over in my brain. For in this world, they have no voice. And then I weep. God be with them.
