It Breaks My Heart

I don't work in the nicest of neighborhoods. For those of you who know Houston, I work a few blocks southeast of Sharpstown - not an area you want to find yourself in alone at night. Southwest Houston is constantly in the news - people are shot, stabbed, robbed, etc. And my school is rather sizable, so every time I hear something on t.v. about the area I listen for the names of the streets and wonder if it affects any of the students I know.

Unfortunately, last week it did.

In the class I'm testing this week, there's a little boy, Jason, whose father was stabbed to death. Jason is such a sweet boy. He's very shy and quiet, even moreso now. His father was the one who brought him to school every morning and picked him up every afternoon. His father was the one who sat down and did homework with him, who encouraged him to learn, who helped him believe he could learn. His father was the one who paid for all the field trips and attended all the extra-curricular activities. Now his father is gone.

I don't claim to have known Jason's father personally, and I'm certain I couldn't point him out in a line up. But I'm still grieved that this family is left without their father, their rock. And the saddest thing is Jason is so young, it's possible he may not remember his father 15 years from now. And given the statistics, it's probable his life will take a drastically different direction now that his father was murdered.

So I pray that Jason and his two brothers keep their father's memory alive by pursuing their education like he wanted them to. And I pray that they find another Father who lavishes His love, acceptance, and encouragement upon them every single moment of their lives . . .