Tonight I rocked my baby to sleep and simultaneously read the names of the victims of yesterday’s horrible,
Charlotte Bacon, 6
The names were unfamiliar. But I read each one slowly, tears streaming.
Daniel Barden, 7
At some point, six or seven years ago, these names were carefully and joyfully selected as parents welcomed these little ones. Like all parents, I’m sure they worked hard to find the perfect name.
Olivia Engel, 6
When you’re picking out a baby name, you think about how it will sound on their first day of school, on a blind date, on a wedding invitation.
Josephine Gay, 7
You never imagine having to see your child’s name listed as a murder victim. And you should never have to.
Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 6
After each name, a number. A number that is just another reminder of how cruel this was.
Dylan Hockley, 6
6’s and 7’s. Single digits. “Mere babies,” I keep saying to myself.
Madeleine F. Hsu, 6
Each of these children was once a babe being rocked to sleep by their parents, just as I sit with my son.
Catherine V. Hubbard, 6
I kiss his rosy little cheeks. I whisper love to him. I watch him sleep peacefully, safe in my arms.
Chase Kowalski, 7
But my heart aches oh so much for those other mamas. For their unspeakable grief.
Jesse Lewis, 6
For the young lives cut short. For younger ones who don’t understand and ask for their older siblings. For the town who mourns together. For children who are terrified to go back to school.
James Mattioli, 6
I have cursed and I have cried. “It’s not fair,” I weep. “Why should my baby still be here when someone else loses theirs?”
Grace McDonnell, 7
Every moment I shower my sweet boy with love because I know that those mamas and papas wish they could do the same to their babies.
Emilie Parker, 6
But I feel so, so guilty. Because my baby is still here. Because their hearts are wrenched with pain tonight as I sit here with a safe, living and breathing child.
Jack Pinto, 6
Prayers are ached out from my grieving heart. The words to my prayers getting caught in my throat before they reach my lips because there simply are no words that suffice.
Noah Pozner, 6
Stinging tears run down my face as I again look at those names.
Caroline Previdi, 6
“What would their mamas want?” I wonder “If their daddies were here, what would they say?”
Jessica Rekos, 6
I can only guess. But I’d guess they’d want them to be remembered.
Avielle Richman, 6
I would guess that they would want people to know and speak and remember their name. They would want them to be remembered for their LIFE and not for their death.
Benjamin Wheeler, 6
Read the names. Remember the lives.
Allison N. Wyatt, 6
Remember also the brave women who died, trying to protect these little ones.
Anne Marie Murphy