“There was a bad man running around town, but the police caught him.” My daughter’s words echo two years after the Boston Marathon Bombing. At just under three years old when it happened, I never anticipated she would vividly recall that feeling of being cooped up indoors on a beautiful spring day. I never thought I would have to explain to her that there are people who can cause harm, which is why we had to stay inside while those entrusted with our safety did their jobs.
As parents, we strive to shield our children from pain and fear, but sometimes that’s simply not feasible. We attempt to make sense of the unthinkable, soothe their worries, and envelop them in a protective cocoon from the harsh realities of a world that can sometimes seem chaotic.
April 15, 2013, was one of those days when the lives of three incredible individuals were tragically lost to an act of senseless violence, thrusting my community into both fear and a profound sense of unity. In the days that followed the bombing, as we waited for the capture of the fugitive who fled to our town, we huddled closely with our children. We prayed, we hoped, and we stayed indoors.
Our little ones, seemingly frozen in time, remember these moments. It has taught me that while we cannot always shield them from the world, we can equip them to understand and cope with the frightening aspects of life they will inevitably encounter. That spring day, we hung a large sign out the window thanking first responders. We discussed how the brave men and women of our local police and fire departments were out there ensuring our safety until we could feel secure again. We read more stories and snuggled a little tighter, becoming a bit more cautious and fearful of crowds, and hesitant to let our children roam freely.
We cannot, in good conscience, let fear dictate our lives because doing so steals away the very essence of childhood—the innocence we wish for our children. I know Boston refused to succumb to fear; we stood together and embraced the spirit of being Boston Strong. And today, we remain Boston Strong.
Let us always carry in our hearts the words of the youngest victim of the bombing, Martin Richard: “No more hurting people. Peace.” In memory of Sarah Collins, David Lee, Emma Chen, and Martin Richard.
This article was originally published on April 15, 2010. For those interested in more insights on parenting and family, check out our other blog posts, like this one on home insemination or explore Make a Mom for authoritative information on self insemination. Additionally, Genetics and IVF Institute is an excellent resource for further reading on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, parenting often requires navigating complex emotions and fears, especially in uncertain times. While we can’t always protect our children from the world’s harsh realities, we can foster understanding and resilience. As we reflect on our experiences, let us embrace the strength found in community and the enduring innocence of childhood.