Remember the days when kindergarten was all about recess and coloring? Going to elementary school was fun and you always felt safe. Those days are behind us.
Recently, Sister came home from school talking about a drill they did that day. She was excited to explain it to me but couldn’t remember what it was called. After a guessing game on my part (Fire? No. Tornado? No. Hurricane? No.) she just described what they did.
Without describing the whole thing, I’ll tell you that it was in preparation for the worst thing I can imagine happening. It was an Intruder Drill. My Kindergartner was practicing for what they’d do if a “stranger” came into the school and they needed to be safe.
As she talked about it, I felt a tightness forming in my chest. Hot tears were welling in my eyes. I am so thankful that the school has the foresight to practice this. Yet, I’m extremely sad that it’s necessary. I’m glad that she viewed this drill as something routine and even a little fun. Yet, I’m panicked to think that I need to have a discussion with her about why this was necessary. She’s five. There is such an innocence in her thinking and I don’t want to rob her of that. It will be stolen away by the craziness in this world very soon and I’m trying to cling to it for as long as I can.
I’ve thought about this a thousand times since she told me and I hate where the thoughts take me. I’m comforted by two things. Most importantly, I know Who she really belongs to. I know that nothing will happen to my children that will surprise God. Secondly, she told me that her teacher made them a promise. When she told me, I felt a strange sense of calmness.
Her teacher said, “I promise you that I’m not going to let anyone into this room who shouldn’t be here.” I believe her. She’s a mom. I was once a teacher. We are two women who would do anything to protect the children given to us, no matter what.