I can't count how many times I've started to write something here over the past few days, but then just couldn't get anything down. Or, if I did, it didn't really seem to make any sense. I, like most people, am heartbroken and sick about the events that occurred in Newtown on Friday morning. I just don't understand how/why something like this could happen. And unfortunately, I'm the type of person who, when failing to comprehend something, obsesses over it until I can make some sort of sense out of it. But it's impossible to make sense out of something as horrific as Newtown.
So instead, I'm deciding to focus on the small glimmers of hope I've witnessed since the tragedy. Scenes like the grief-stricken father of 6-year-old Emilie, who showed compassion and sympathy towards the family of his daughter's murderer (I don't think I could have been so merciful). The airline, JetBlue, who transported hand-written letters on a red-eye from Washington State to Connecticut so they could be buried with 6-year-old Noah. The local soldier/father who volunteered to stand watch outside of an elementary school so the kids wouldn't be afraid go to school today. And the teacher who told a nervous mother this morning, "I love your child as if he were my own son. I would give my life to save his." Those words mean even more now, given the sacrifice of Sandy Hook teacher Victoria Soto.
Be sure, by focusing on the hope, I'm not glossing over the heinousness of Friday's massacre. I'm certainly not trying to put a happy spin on a tragic situation. That's impossible to do in this case. But, as stated before, I can't understand the kind of evil that take his vengeance out on an elementary school. What I can understand is hope - even if it's just small glimmers of it.