Along with the rest of the country and people around the globe, I am praying for Newtown.
I have wondered what to write, how to say what’s in my heart, or if I should write anything at all; but I am moved to acknowledge this painful tragedy and to raise my voice and share my love with my hometown community and with grieving families all over.
I grew up in Newtown. This is my town, the town of my youth, my teens, my memories. I learned to drive on Newtown’s roads, watched $2 movies at the Town Hall, and ice skated in Ram’s pasture. I grew up at the Ice Cream Shop, the Pizza Palace and the Blue Colony Diner. I went to preschool in Trinity Church, returned from college breaks to my childhood home and got married in the white steepled church in the center of town.
Newtown is a part of me and that makes this hurt in another way.
Old friends are reaching out to one another, seeking others who understand this feeling and grasping connections to home. A need drawing us together again. Tears coming freely, frequently, openly.
No matter where this happened, the pain and suffering is unimaginable. Our hearts swell and we cry for the children, families and community. We cry for the world and humanity. We question, doubt, wonder, fear, pray.
How? Why? Questions that can never be answered. Or explained to our children. So we pray. We hold onto faith and pray for Newtown.
National Association of School Psychologists: Talking to Children About Violence, A Guide for Parents and Teachers