When Children Weep

“Atticus.” Aunt Alexandra’s eyes were anxious. “You are the
last person I thought would turn bitter over this.”
“I’m not bitter, just tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Atticus.” said Jem bleakly.
He turned in the doorway. “What, son?”
“How could they do it, how could they?”
“I don’t know, but they did it. They’ve done it before and they
did it tonight and they’ll do it again and when they do it seems
that only children weep. Good night.”

My friend shared that photo last night, and it seemed all too perfect.

It isn’t often that I don’t feel like writing. On the rare occasion when I don’t, I turn to books. I wallow in words that aren’t my own-words that come easy and with great relief. Sometimes I escape whatever it is I’m hiding from. Sometimes I find answers before I’ve asked the question. Sometimes I just give my eyes something to do instead of welling with tears.

Books have always done that for me.

I don’t think it is only children weeping today. I think it is many. But I think more than anyone, children need some space, some community, and some books.

The Ferguson library has been the cornerstone of the community during this tumultuous time. They have stayed open through it all, providing essential services to their community. They have become the teachers, the counselors, and the librarians. They have become what libraries have always been.

So, if you too are wondering where to look today, if you too are having a hard time looking anywhere, I would encourage you to start here. Look there for where to donate. Look there for the good in all of this. Look there for heroes to offer hope.

Look there to provide others with words when they don’t have their own.

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