Back-to-school season.  A time for new clothes, school supplies, Thomas the Train lunch boxes and Hello Kitty backpacks. A time for last minute lessons on brushing teeth, tying shoes, and proper bathroom hygiene.  And apparently, a time for discussing unimaginable horrors and evil people.

Today, my first grader had a lockdown drill at school.  In the middle of music class, an announcement was made over the PA system instructing the teachers to lock their doors and windows, and initiate classroom lockdown procedures.  My frightened daughter huddled behind the piano with her classmates.  She later told me, “I was good, Mommy. I was really, really quiet. It was scary though.  We heard footsteps outside of our door.  It sounded like this (she marched her tiny feet on the floor to demonstrate), but I think it was a teacher, though.”  My heart sank as she recounted her experience.  I hated that she had to go through that.  That her happy, innocent little mind should be poisoned by fear of the unthinkable.  Then she asked me the question no parent should ever have to answer.  “What should I do if a person comes?”

I knew what she meant.  She wasn’t quite sure what the nature of the threat was, but she knew she and her classmates were hiding from something: presumably a person.

How do you respond to that?  How do you peer into the angelic face of a wide-eyed six year old with missing teeth, who hums and skips through life like Cindy Brady, having no idea of how terrifying the world can be, and explain that mankind is capable of the most unspeakable acts of evil?

While I was still pondering that question, she told me that earlier that day someone on the playground said he was going to go home and kill himself, and that their teacher had solemnly addressed the class telling them, “This is very serious.”

Wait… Who? What?  Was this a classmate?  What happened that was so serious that they had to formally discuss it in a room full of first graders?  And what on earth had they said to them?  Now I have to talk to my child about school shootings AND suicide?

Before I could get to the bottom of that, she had moved on to the fire drill they’d practiced and complained about the loud, scary alarms.  (Seriously??  A fire drill the same day?)  Then she asked me, “What if we had a fire and a tornado and a lockdown at the same time?”  After the day she’d had, it didn’t seem all that irrational.

She talked about it all evening and continued as I tucked her into bed.  I tried to console her.  I told her those drills are just for practice.  That none of those things would probably ever, ever happen, but they had to practice so they could be ready–just in case.  Still upset by the days events, she continued to pepper me with questions.  “Why do we have lockdowns?  What are they for?  What should I do if this happens or that happens?  I tried to field them as best I could, but her “what if’s” where flying fast and furious, and none of my answers were easing her fears.

Finally, I said, “Honey, listen, I know all of those things are very, very scary, but Jesus is watching over you and if you’re ever in any danger, you talk to him and he’ll take care of you.”  She flopped over on her side, pulled the blanket over her head and said, “Today was the worst thing in my whole life.”

Sweet girl, I know it was.  I know life is scary.  I know that bad things happen.  I wish I could shield you from it all.  I don’t want you to even have to think about such things.  I don’t want to talk to you about school shootings, suicides, fires, or tornadoes.  I don’t even want to go down the road of “good touches and bad touches” with you, or talk about “Stranger Danger” and the very real threat of kidnappers and sexual predators.  I don’t want to have to warn you about the things you are statistically likely to encounter on the internet before you’re even old enough to understand what you are seeing.

I hate that something as good and pure and lovely as you has to live in a world that can be so dark and twisted and evil.

I can’t promise you a life without pain, fear, or tragedy.  Oh, how I wish I could.  But I can promise you this.  Daddy and I love you to the moon and back and will always do everything in our power to protect you and keep you safe.  And your Father in heaven loves you even more than that, and He is more powerful than all the bad things in the world, and one day He is going to make everything perfect again.  So sleep soundly tonight, my love.  Try to think about happy things.  Close your eyes and listen to the lullaby softly playing near your bed:

“Do not be afraid little lamb
Trust Him while you are sleeping
Angels over your cradle will stand
Silent watch they are keeping

Think about these things
And love will guide your dreams
And He will keep you in perfect peace
Perfect peace, perfect peace
He will keep you in perfect peace
If you keep your mind on Him”

Maybe I’ll lie here a while and listen too.

Paris, Twila. “Perfect Peace.” Bedtime Prayers: Lullabies & Peaceful Worship. CD.  Sparrow. 2001.