I can't sleep at all and maybe rightly so. I can't stop thinking about the little girl from my class having surgery tomorrow. I've been checking her website obsessively because I want to find some sign that she'll be fine. I did find an e-mail from her mom saying that she missed me and her classmates and can't wait to come back. Not whatever I was hoping to find to ease my fears, though. We just can't know that yet. Maybe I am just awake because I am supposed to pray.
Tomorrow twenty one kids and one teacher will sleepily get out of bed and return to their third grade classroom. Snowflakes are still hanging on the wall. New projects will be started. New supplies are out. I can't help but wish all twenty-two would be there.
Energy will be high because the kids are eight and nine. The ignorant bliss of childhood will hide the tragedy from them tomorrow. It doesn't feel right, though. It seems like the classroom, even the world, should be still and quiet until we know that everything will be alright.