As the horror of yet another mass murder of children recedes into the past, buried under the useless detritus of empty thoughts and prayers and the sad heaps of makeshift memorials, it's worth remembering that childhood used to be a safe and wondrous place. Of course, that was before we decided as a nation that the right to pack unlimited iron was more important than the lives and safety of our children, that the right to bear arms was more important than the right to life of the children already born and learning the lessons that will prepare them to face the challenges of adult life.
This poem from Faith Shearin brings back the memory of a simple moment of childhood.
Have a good day. Think hard about what's more important - fancy guns or the lives of the children whose coffins, rather than whose animals, are too often blessed in these awful times.
Blessing of the Animals
by Faith Shearin
At my daughter’s Catholic school there is
a blessing of the animals at which
the children line up with their fat hamsters
and gauzy goldfish, their dogs so old
they can barely climb the hill. They bring
their cats with bald patches
and their lizards sleeping in cages
under a fake sun. In the line
to the priest there are snakes
with white eyes and birds without songs.
There are ant farms and worms and rats
with long, exposed tails. The children
wait hours for their animals
to be blessed: for the priest’s hand
to hover over the weight they carry.
They bring shoe boxes full of turtles,
hairy spiders, frogs with dry skin.
I like watching my daughter
among the other children: her dog
small in her arms, her gaze protective.
Children believe in the power
of animals, tucked into their feathers
and shells; they believe
in blessings: the sprinkle
of holy water, each tiny
unexplained life.
More thoughts coming.
Bilbo
Hmmmmm.... I pick kids over guns.
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