I am a teacher. Like me, teachers all over the country are now watching their students a little closer, enjoying them a little more, keeping them utmost in their thoughts. I was afraid to return to school on Monday, afraid of what the children knew and heard on the news, afraid of how I was going to react, afraid that I might crack. But when my 3rd graders gathered in the hallway outside my classroom, like they do every school day, their innocent, smiling faces were waiting for me. It was going to be okay. Not one child said a word. We went about our day as usual. We all needed this routine. They needed to see (as did I) that things were as they should be in our little corner of the world. That what happened was a random act of violence. We weren't thinking about gun control. We weren't thinking about the horrible events that too often take place in this world. That will come later. It is my job to teach my students and to keep them safe. To show them the beauty in this world. To surround them with lovely language and touching stories. To help them grow and feel confident. To encourage them to be life-long learners and to question. That is my job.
I will always remember the new angels among us. The faces of those little children whose lives were taken too soon. I lost a child years ago. I know about angels. They are always with us.
