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Dec
16

4 Comments

To 1st Graders, With Love…


My sister and I are private people….we really are. But, when the world reeled over the horrendous act of violence in Newtown, Connecticut, it took its toll on me as well.

me: 1st grader….many, many years ago

You see, I’m a teacher….a 1st grade teacher…in a small town, similar to the one effected….only hundreds of miles away from the devastation. This past Friday, my morning was filled with 20 pairs of dancing eyes and stories of mischievous elves on the shelves. Then, my 20 1st graders and I celebrated a holiday luncheon with our parents and performed a little song / dance for The Twelve Days of Christmas. Unbeknownst to us, the unimaginable had occurred – to a school, very similar to my own – to students, teachers, and staff that would soon be household names around the country. Through the weekend, as the innocent victims’ identities were revealed and pictures shown, I saw my children in those eyes, in those toothless grins, and the sweet innocence so evident on each child’s face. I found myself replaying the scene as I imagined it took place, only in my school, among my peers, and with my children. The anguish on the parents’ faces was replaced with my children’s parents’ faces…and the stories became interwoven in my very being….creating a gray line between my world and theirs. I questioned my possible reaction, if – heaven forbid – my school was ever under attack.  I worried about the residual effects on all teachers and students nationwide in the wake of this gut-wrenching tragedy.

This morning at church, I was reminded that this world is NOT our home. Evil acts, such as the one carried out on Friday, makes one long for eternal life – free from sadness and tragedy. God was in Sandy HookElementary School on Friday – I know it. He did not leave the victims alone in their time of passing. Throughout the day, the words to one of my favorite songs (I have a LOT), kept coming to mind: Many things about tomorrow, I don’t seem to understand. But I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand.
So, tomorrow, when I greet my 20 children, I’ll listen a little closer – wait a bit longer – and laugh a little stronger. I don’t know what tomorrow holds: whether I’ll be moderator, counselor, or assuror. But I do know, I plan to celebrate each moment I have with these children on this earth while preparing to meet my God.



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Lisa Burger