Hold Those Marbles Close

I go into work everyday and often say that I check my heart at the door. We have to be prepared to deal with the worst of the worst and still manage to be able to dispatch the next call to the next person who needs help with poise and composure. Recently there have been two cases in our community where children have been abused by their daycare workers. In one instance, the father of a little girl was so distraught that the person responsible for violating his child wasn't being apprehended fast enough that he showed up at headquarters in the middle of the night demanding to talk to someone, anyone that could help him so he didn't take matters into his own hands.

I can't imagine what that would feel like to trust your child to someone then have them so horribly violated that you are filled with rage to the point where you're willing to kill. Then, I watched the news this morning and the memorial for Sandra Cantu is today. She is the eight year old girl who went missing in California a few weeks ago and her body was found in a suitcase in a drainage ditch. The person charged for her murder and rape is a female sunday school teacher. I was surprised when an arrest was made in that case that a woman was responsible for her murder. You just don't see it often that a female would so brutally harm a child. The news was showing pictures of this little girl and I started getting choked up because she could have been anyone's child. They were showing pictures of her with a horse stuffed animal, her school pictures, pictures of her on christmas day. Then they showed her little casket in a horse drawn carriage and the tears welled up in my eyes.

I can deal with the domestic fighting, the drug related shootings, the car accidents that cause a fatality but when kids are involved and they subsequently die at the hands of an adult, I get pissed. It makes you wonder if your children are ever really safe. Do you really know who is teaching your children? Who is caring for them after school? Who is driving their bus? Who is serving them their lunch? I'd like to think I do, but do I?