A Prayer for the Little Things

After all day of watching the news and thinking about the Newtown Shooting I walked into my 5 year old daughter’s bedroom, I say all her barbies and fairies, her tree house tent, her baptismal gown and her butterfly mobile, the first thing we bought when we found out I was pregnant, hanging above her bed.  I tucked her in and thanked God she was there.

I walked out of the room and into my bedroom, laid on the bed and sobbed.
That’s all I could do… last night my prayer was tears, that’s all I could manage.

Today the idea of losing so many children my daughter’s age is haunting, and all I can think about is the little things, the little things these children, parents, grandparents, teachers, and neighbors will miss out on, so here is a prayer for the little things:

I pray for the empty classroom, with crayons but no one to color with them.

For the teachers with no one to teach.

For the elves on a shelf with no owners, for the presents that will never be opened.

For the dreams of future veterinarians, fire fighters, ballerinas, and superheros that will never be realized.

For the crotchy old men who will have no one to yell “get off my lawn” to

For the grandmothers with no one to bake cookies with.

For the fathers with no one to play catch with.

For the empty rooms filled with Barbies, and Lighting McQueens.

For the Mothers that will never hear “mommy, look a butterfly”

For the parents that will never have to endure the first band concert or push their kids to become the basketball player they never could.

For all the “Mommy, I love you” “Daddy, my tummy hurts” or “Lizzy’s parents are letting her go” that will never be heard.

For all the “take out the trash” and “clean your room”‘s that will never be yelled.

I pray for the doors that will never have the opportunity to be slammed after a fight.

For the predictable phone bills that will never change because there is no one to text too much.

For the parents that will get too much sleep because there is no child to stay our past curfew.

For the graduation gowns that will never be worn, or the florist that will have no wedding to get flowers to.

For the hospitals with no babies to be born, in Newtown Connecticut, because the children will not grow up to have them.

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