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Chalkboards and easels, pencils and toys Desks lined up in aisles of little girls and boys. A classroom, learning the A B C’s, two plus two equals four But this day, all that learning didn’t matter anymore. A girl with a bow, a boy with a grin Children with freckles scattered on their skin. A daughter, a brother, a grandkid, a friend A lot of moms never thinking these titles would end. Lego’s and the alphabet, Mrs. Soto taught them how to write a name And then a mad-man stormed in, with destruction he came. He shot down a daughter, a son, a wife He shot down a child, a baby, a life. Lessons in elementary consist of building Lego’s, catching butterflies in the sky Lessons as a 6-year-old should never be what your friend looks like as they die. Moms stuff a lunchbox with treats; Dads stuff a ball in a glove Parents raise children; stuff a heart full of love. They teach how to ride a bike, put a band-aid on a scratched up knee What they should never have to do though, is bury their babies beneath a tree. But there is evil in this world, a darkness that engulfs the light There is an evil that reigns that humanity can’t fight. The safest places are not safe, the most guarded unsecure In the world we live of ignoring God and provoking massacre. We denounce Him out of government, our country, and our schools We ask that He move aside so that we can make the rules. And then we blame Him when there’s death; but we don’t thank Him when there’s life We don’t bless Him when there’s goodness; we just curse Him when there’s strife. Moms are always good at preparing children for the day With some things that don't matter, clinging to a love that will never go away. Mothers, kiss your babies. Fathers, hold their hand. Devastation comes unannounced, we will never understand. At home in Newtown, a dog sits waiting at the door He stares out the window, his tail wagging no more. He sits by the window, lots of time he’ll spend Waiting to welcome his very best friend Jump up on her lap, smell her scent, steal her sock But his owner won’t be coming home; no more leash, no more walk. I think Jesus sat by his window this very same way Waiting to welcome His children that awful Friday He greeted them from His throne that December afternoon And as they entered through the Pearly Gates, He healed all their wounds. A classroom filled with giggles, children’s voices - the sweet sound This same classroom turned from liveliness to a too-young burial ground. But we hold on to the giggles, and we hold on to their love And the promise of a Father taking care of them, above.
0
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 5:03 AM UTC
Hold on to the Love.
Chalkboards and easels, pencils and toys Desks lined up in aisles of little girls and boys. A classroom, learning the A B C’s, two plus two equals four But this day, all that learning didn’t matter anymore. A girl with a bow, a boy with a grin Children with freckles scattered on their skin. A daughter, a brother, a grandkid, a friend A lot of moms never thinking these titles would end. Lego’s and the alphabet, Mrs. Soto taught them how to write a name And then a mad-man stormed in, with destruction he came. He shot down a daughter, a son, a wife He shot down a child, a baby, a life. Lessons in elementary consist of building Lego’s, catching butterflies in the sky Lessons as a 6-year-old should never be what your friend looks like as they die. Moms stuff a lunchbox with treats; Dads stuff a ball in a glove Parents raise children; stuff a heart full of love. They teach how to ride a bike, put a band-aid on a scratched up knee What they should never have to do though, is bury their babies beneath a tree. But there is evil in this world, a darkness that engulfs the light There is an evil that reigns that humanity can’t fight. The safest places are not safe, the most guarded unsecure In the world we live of ignoring God and provoking massacre. We denounce Him out of government, our country, and our schools We ask that He move aside so that we can make the rules. And then we blame Him when there’s death; but we don’t thank Him when there’s life We don’t bless Him when there’s goodness; we just curse Him when there’s strife. Moms are always good at preparing children for the day With some things that don't matter, clinging to a love that will never go away. Mothers, kiss your babies. Fathers, hold their hand. Devastation comes unannounced, we will never understand. At home in Newtown, a dog sits waiting at the door He stares out the window, his tail wagging no more. He sits by the window, lots of time he’ll spend Waiting to welcome his very best friend Jump up on her lap, smell her scent, steal her sock But his owner won’t be coming home; no more leash, no more walk. I think Jesus sat by his window this very same way Waiting to welcome His children that awful Friday He greeted them from His throne that December afternoon And as they entered through the Pearly Gates, He healed all their wounds. A classroom filled with giggles, children’s voices - the sweet sound This same classroom turned from liveliness to a too-young burial ground. But we hold on to the giggles, and we hold on to their love And the promise of a Father taking care of them, above.
chalaine-scott
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Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 5:03 AM UTC
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