Ruralite Cafe: Published 09/20/01

By Lisa Majors-Duff - News Editor

Our children need our help during crisis

"What would happen if an airplane flew through our house?" she asked as I was tucking her in and recounting the freckles on her nose.

As I fought to take my next breath as naturally as possible, I realized I had about half a second to come up with a believable answer before she realized I was formulating a deception.

Not wanting to lie to my 7-year-old, I told her, "You don't need to worry about that." If I'd only seen it coming, I would have followed up with "because that isn't going to happen."

But I didn't, giving her the perfect opportunity to answer her own question.

"Because I'll be dead," she said. It was a statement, not a question.

Is there anything more painful a mother can hear? Of course. A mother in Oklahoma City, New York City or Washington, D.C., can hear that her son or daughter is counted among the thousands dead, the result of a senseless act of terrorism.

But we don't live in any of these far-off, frightening places. We make our home in the loving arms of Jackson County, N.C., safe from the maddening crowds. Or so I thought. Turns out today's satellite technology is more than capable of bringing the horror home to every American within earshot of a TV. And when I say every American, I mean our children were watching, too.

I should have known there'd be no way to prevent my daughter from finding out about last week's tragedy. She may not be among the majority of us who will know exactly where we were when we got the news, but for now she is keenly aware that something terrible happened and that people were killed.

"I'm so mad at those bad people. Even children were killed," Niki said as I walked in the door just before bedtime that night. I'd stayed late at the office making up for not writing my usual account of the latest county commissioners' meeting earlier in the day because under the circumstances I didn't give a damn about a new purchasing policy, budget amendments or a scrap tire contract.

"I bet even some pregnant women were killed," said my daughter, who has earned the title of "Little Adult" at the after-school program. Little, yes; adult, far from it.

Not having all the answers, especially for the questions my daughter can think up, I was grateful to find a letter from Superintendent Mack McCary in Niki's bookbag last Thursday. It made me feel less alone in my effort to put the pieces of my daughter's world back in order.

"Children cannot help but become aware of the events through the media and conversations with their peers," McCary wrote. "All of our school administrators, counselors and social workers are making a real effort to be highly visible in the school."

Attached to his letter was a list of more than 20 things we, as parents, can do and say to help our children "put their fears in perspective." Most important on the list seems to be maintaining a child's regular schedule, being open and honest with them, and responding with care and concern to their emotions.

McCary also pointed out that as time passes and the steady barrage of images appear to subside, "events will continue to unfold over some time."

And that's where the fears of another young lady I met last week lie. Natasha Grant is the 15-year-old daughter of David and Karen Grant of Whittier. Her father, a detective with the Jackson County Sheriff's Department, describes his oldest as "the emotional one" of his three daughters. "She does a lot of talking and a lot of thinking about things," he said. "She's one to express her feelings for all to see."

"I found out about (the attacks) during first period," said this Smoky Mountain High sophomore. "We all huddled around the TV the rest of the day - students and teachers."

But it was later, she said, that she began to worry about what might happen to her father and her friends, those she knew instinctively might be called upon to try and right this wrong against America.

"I told her that I'm too old to fight for Uncle Sam," her father said. "But she still has friends with older brothers who could be called to fight."

"I'm sad, mad and scared," Natasha said about the future. In an effort to express, control and understand these feeling, she has taken pen in hand and composed several poems dealing with subject matter no 15-year-old should ever be forced to dwell on. Here's one:

Lives were changed

By Natasha Grant

September 11 the U.S. was without warning.

By 11 a.m. thousands were mourning.

"Attack on America" was what the headline said.

The fight has begun to defend what is ours.

The people that have done this belong behind bars.

These terrible events must come to a halt.

But that will not happen until these people are caught.

I never had thought much about it before.

But now it is happening and the U.S. is at war.

May God bless each person, family and friend.

And please don't let this be the end.

"I don't know what might happen," she said as she helped her mother combine red, white and blue ribbons to be displayed on Sheriff's Department vehicles. "I don't like war; it kills so many innocent people, but I don't see any way around it."

"Sometimes kids just need to know we (adults) are listening to them," David said. "And maybe we'll learn something when we do."

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