The other day I realized that I cry a lot more than I used too. It's not that I'm sadder than I've been before. I think I'm just more aware.
With all that happened last year a marriage, a move, and what seemed like many deaths, I suppose it's no surprise that things touch me more deeply than ever before.
The other day I was sitting in an I'M IN CHARGE class. The Red Cross offers this class to 10-12-year-olds to teach them how to be safe when home alone, walking home from school or surfing the net. I was covering the class for the Red Cross newsletter I write every month.
The teacher showed her class of 11 kids a video. It was a cheesy thing, hosted by 4 happy kids. Two were girls. Two were boys. One was black, one Hispanic, two white. It was a classic politically correct safety propaganda.
I had to blink back tears.
When the kids explained: you should always check your house when you get back from school to make sure nothing is suspicious, and never go in if something doesn't look or feel right, I heard: Don't get murdered.
When they said: never get into a car with someone you don't know or take anything from strangers, I heard: don't get kidnapped.
When they said: don't let anyone touch you in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable, I heard: don't get raped.
Run. Scream. Protect yourself. Keep telling until someone listens: stay safe, stay alert, stay alive.
I had to look at my notebook. I couldn't look at these kids. Ten were girls. One was a boy. One was black. Two were Hispanic. Eight were white.
Each and every one was somebody's baby.
I leave you today with a quote from the Denis Breeze, "The only moral lesson which is suited for a child, the most important lesson for every time of life is this: Never hurt anybody." If only the adults could learn it too.
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