I sent an 8 year old to school today.
I’m sitting in a pickup line and I’m thankful for that. I get to hug her today, and I’m thankful for that. I get to smell that spot on the top of her head, and hear her little voice, tell her to focus on her homework and then make sure she drinks some water. I get to make her chicken nuggets tonight, and then tell her to brush her teeth. And after that, I get to tuck her into bed and kiss her on the same spot I have every night since she was born; right on the tip of the nose.
I get to listen to our Taylor swift playlist together, and ask her if she wants to get Starbucks. I get to argue with her at some point today, probably over a hair tie or Bobby pin because we just can’t stop losing those in this house. On Sunday, I’ll be able to spend way too long deciding what color she wants her nails painted. I get to wash her laundry and not feel afraid im washing away her scent.
I get to let her borrow my orange Stanley because it matches her outfit. I get to hear “I love you mommy.” at least one more time today. And tomorrow. And the next day.
I get to get up tomorrow and get her ready for school again and no doubt, it’ll cross my mind. A usually fleeting worry now, for a while, will be a sweaty palm inducing fear.
But I’ll send her anyway, and pray to God above that she comes home to me tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day..
And that feels crazy. It feels crazy to know we’re living in a world where this is a real fear. A true concern. Where sending your baby to school feels like a threat to their safety.
It isn’t right.
But it’s real.
And it’s very real to the mommy who isn’t sitting in a pickup line, waiting for her eight year old today.
God, please wrap these parents up in your love. Please heal those who were injured physically and soothe those who are injured spiritually. Emotionally. Mentally.
And please, God, today and for all the days to come, protect our babies down here.
Sending a child to school is usually a routine filled with small joys and daily rituals—packing lunchboxes, helping with homework, and sharing moments that make parenting special. However, in recent times, especially following tragic events like the reported shooting at a Minneapolis Catholic school that left at least two children killed and 17 people injured, the act of letting a child walk through school doors carries a weight of profound worry. Many parents experience a 'sweaty palm inducing fear' as they pray for their children's safe return each day. This heightened vigilance is a reflection of the real—and heartbreaking—risk children face. Parents not only manage their child’s schedules but also deal with a silent anxiety that shadows every pickup line moment. The fear is compounded by the knowledge that similar incidents have affected families everywhere, leaving deep physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual scars. Communities often come together in the aftermath of such tragedies, rallying with #prayersforschool and collective calls for stronger school safety measures. These moments remind us of the crucial need to support not only the victims and their families but also every parent carrying unseen fears. Teachers, administrators, and policymakers are urged to work collaboratively to enhance security in educational environments while fostering nurturing, inclusive atmospheres where every child can learn without fear. On a personal level, the simple acts shared in the article—hugging, listening to music, arguing over hair ties, or simply sharing a chicken nugget dinner—gain deeper meaning. They remind us of the irreplaceable bond between parent and child and the desire to protect that bond from harm. While parents cannot shield their children from all dangers, they can envelop them with love, prayers, and support networks that reinforce resilience. This reflection resonates especially with mothers and parents who sit in those pickup lines daily, balancing gratitude for these moments with the resolve to advocate for safer schools. It is a call for awareness, compassion, and action—so that one day, the anxiety of sending children to school can be replaced by peace of mind and joy in watching them grow and thrive.