On the Helpers

At some point every day, often right after I’ve dropped her off at school and am already missing the steady stream of chatter and questions, I say a short, simple prayer:

Thank you for her. Keep her safe.

I said it Friday as I drove away from my daughter’s school, before, and I said it today after I kissed her goodbye.

I can’t keep her behind closed doors, under my own eyes every second, nor would I want to. I want her to feel confident in her independence, to explore the world, to feel secure in her place in this world. I can’t shield her completely from the bad, the hard, the painful—none of us can. But we can help them remember all the good, and how to look for the good, and how to be a part of the good.

I don’t want this to become political, nor do I want to co-opt the grief from the many victims of Friday’s shooting. So much has already been written and said. Like so many, I shed a lot of tears over the weekend. So many tears were for the innocent, and those they left behind, and many were for the stories of bravery, sacrifice, and love the teachers, staff, and responders all showed.

Many of you have likely seen the FB post about Mister Rogers, and how his mother told him to look for the helpers in the midst of horrible things.

I want my daughter to know there are helpers, and I am incredibly grateful for the caring, compassionate educators who allow her to feel secure and loved everyday.

Church was unusually packed this weekend. I imagine drop-offs were more poignant and protracted at schools all over this morning.

Thank you for them. Keep them safe.

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