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My son’s Catholic school has daily morning Mass. Children are allowed to peel off from their class’s pew to join their parents if they attend. Many parents show up daily, and I usually do at least once a week.
The Mass there is something behold: an old parish that used to be empty, filled five times a week with happy children, parents, and young, inspired teachers. As you approach the altar for communion, the high voices of the kindergartners and first graders in the first few pews is like a choir of angels in various degrees of squirminess. It is truly a site of hope.
Last night I decided I was definitely going to Mass this morning. My son, who had learned about the shooting at Annunciation Catholic School from his older brother, was upset. He was old enough to know that it was highly unlikely that anything bad would happen to him, but I imagine it was all too easy in his mind’s eye to see the event occurring where he sits every morning.
And even though I was even more certain that, statistically, he would be safe, I wanted to be with him if lightning struck.
Last night I also decided I was not going to write about this. First, I was hesitant to draw public attention to the school for any copycats lurking near my hometown. On that point I’ve since decided that The Pillar paywall is a blessing.