Sometimes I think that I'm too much a cynic, that I have become too hardened to the injustices and horrors of our world. The I read a story likethis and it shatters my heart.
I honestly cannot conceive, even in my darkest imaginings, how anyone could possibly harm a child. I know that there are those out there who do, and it always sickens me when I hear about the things they have done. But this case touched me much more deeply. Maybe it's the fact that this little boy is so close in age to my son. Or the fact that he seems to have liked the same cartoon character, Lightning McQueen, that my son does.
Looking at the picture released, I did something I rarely do - I broke down and cried for this child. I kept thinking about him picking out those sneakers, how excited he must have been to have Lightning McQueen on them. Giving his parents a big smile as he carried them to the checkout, probably wanting to wear them out of the store.
He had an airplane on the front of his shirt - did he get excited about planes the way my son does? Did he point them out to his parents, and bounce up and down laughing, when he saw them?
What else did he like? Was he into dinosaurs, or trains, or spaceships? I can picture him on the living room floor, watching cartoons or playing with his toys, making up adventures for them to act out. What adventures did he hope to have in his life?
I keep coming back to all the things that he should have had, and never will. His first bike ride without training wheels. Graduations, proms, family vacations. His first date, his first kiss. Heading off to college, becoming a grown man.
And what of his family? I think of the joy they must have known when he arrived, now snatched from them. All the times they thought they would have together, never imagining how quickly he would be gone. I can't help but wonder where they are now, and why the silence - if it were my child there is nothing short of my own death that would stop me from moving earth and heaven to find him.
What I wish more than anything else is that there was something I could do. I hate knowing that his final moments were very likely filled with fear, terrified by what was happening, and not understanding why the people he loved weren't there to stop it. If I could ask for one gift from God, it would be for the chance to step back to that moment, for the chance to intervene, to hold him and tell him that he is safe.
But the only thing that I can do is what I have done each night since I first heard this story. I pray that God has opened his arms to this child, and that he knows now that he is loved and safe, and in a place where no one will ever hurt him again.
I also think about whomever is responsible for this child's death. You should also pray, pray that God can forgive you for this horrible act. Because I never will.