For the lost children
Twenty six candles on a single plate. That’s a lot.
The light it produces illuminates the room almost as strongly as the CFL in the ceiling fixture. And the weight of that… all those lights snuffed out… SHOULD be setting heavily on everyone’s minds in one way or another. Because each of them was unique, full of potential, and gone forever.
For everyone who says they’re a Necrolatrist, consider lighting a damn candle… even just one.
I’ll be honest. I kind of avoided the news and discussion of this tragedy.
Last night, I didn’t want anything to do with it. I didn’t want to hear a word.
I was at my staff party of around 30 people, and I knew that dicussing it would destroy us.Why?
I am a daycare teacher.
My staff party was a bit over 30 people, all of whom have made children our priority. We are people who spend our days hugging and kissing, cutting and gluing. We are a bunch of people that cry from stress when we think we may have accidentally allowed even a mild allergic reaction to happen. We are people who don’t care that a child has just puked all over us, because we know that they are in pain and frightened because their bodies hurt, and they don’t understand what is going on.
I cannot imagine this happening to my students. At a school, this part of the year is one when children have finally settled into their routines, and are beginning to flourish in their classes. From the point of view of a teacher, this is the point where they begin to trust you, and really start to communicate with you and discuss what interests or inspires them. In the last 2 or 3 weeks, a few children have started calling me their ‘best friend’, and while I used to terrify them (as the new, male, english speaking teacher) I can now comfort them and hold them close to me while they cry, because they’ve come to trust me and feel safe with me, in my class.
This makes me so sad, that I can’t really think of what to say. My reactions are all emotional right now, as I imagine the children in my class, and I’m almost sick.
Tonight, well, I still don’t want to talk about it really. It still makes me choke a bit. But I have started to discuss it. And tonight, I’ll be cleaning off my altar, and setting down lights and my Hekate lantern. I’ll be praying that She finds these children and their teachers, and helps them to get where they need to go. I will pray that She helps to heal them, and to help the families who now have to try to get along without, what I am sure had become, their only reason for waking up in the morning.
I’ll be praying to bring those families light in what must be an unknowably dark place, and light to those who are lost, or scared.
Be safe, people. Be kind. And be as strong as you can manage.