My story begins on an overcast Tuesday morning. I was busy getting ready for work. My husband kissed me goodbye. I did not want to let go of him. (Even though we were not living in New York, I could’nt shake the terrible feeling I had). About an hour after he left for work, I started out the door myself. It was only my third week of my first year of teaching.

My third graders were off the wall as usual, so I began with Arithmetic to calm them down. Math always works! We always have our break time at 10:00, so at that time we went into the lunchroom for our snack.

When we arrived, I noticed that about twenty highschool kids were gathered around the television. I was not prepared for the answer I recieved from one of the kids about the events taking place. With tears in my eyes, I hurried my kids back into the classroom.

Some of them caught glimpes of the t.v. screen and wanted to know what was going on. How can you answer such a question? I explained that bad people are doing bad things to our nation and that we should pray. Many of the children were scared. I was scared.

I assured them that we were very safe. I hope I was right.