The blasts, which killed an 8-year-old boy and two others, marked a grotesque end to what should have been a celebration of triumph.
At least 144 people were hospitalized, with at least 17 in critical condition and 25 in serious condition, officials said. At least 8 of the patients are children.
– CNN News
Katie was sobbing. She just wanted to know why. Why would anyone do this? What on Earth would they get out of hurting other people? Out of KILLING a child? WHY?
I told her that I can’t explain evil. That there’s no logic, no rationale that can make sense of it. That there are some people in the world who hurt other people. That there is no answer that will satisfy her.
But that ..
No, she said. No buts. You go to the movies, you get killed. You go to school, you get shot. You go to watch the marathon and you get blown up by a bomb. What is WRONG with this world?
I told her that we couldn’t live in fear. That evil can’t win. That it’s okay to be afraid, that it’s okay to grieve, but that we also have to remember how much good there is in the world. That, like Mr. Rogers taught us, when evil strikes, we have to remember to look for the helpers — for the spectators taking runners into their homes, for the first responders running TOWARD the blast, for the doctors and nurses who happened to be running veering straight into the stands to help, for the hundreds of people showing up to give blood.
She was angry that I had taken her phone. That I’d insisted that we turn off the news. It was too much, I told her. But I have to KNOW, she said. I told her that there was no new news. That all they were doing now was tripping over each other to make their reports the most graphic, the most sensational, the most disturbing. That we would check the print news in the morning, but until then, it was time to shut it down. It was too much.
She wasn’t satisfied. I’m stronger than you think, she said. You are the strongest person I know, I told her. But you’re 12. It’s too much. I’m 42 and it’s too much for me. By a lot. We live in a world where news comes at us unfiltered, uncensored. It’s our job — my job — to act as the filter.
I can’t just sit here, she said. We have to DO something.
I promised her that in the morning, we would brainstorm and figure out something that we could do to somehow help, or, at the very least, to honor the memory of the victims. I don’t know what, but something.
Her dad should have been running that marathon. Her mama was in her office just blocks away when it happened. Family friends were on Boylston Street, both running and watching.
And her innocence was there in the stands, with those who did not survive the blasts.
Yes, today we will do something.
And we will remember to look for the helpers.
Love and heartfelt prayers to the victims and their families, and endless gratitude to those who ran in to help.