I don't usually write fiction... except the little stories we all like to tell ourselves about who we are and what our lives are about. But the germ of this idea popped into my head during the last few days. If you read this and feel compelled to argue with me or if you read this and it makes you angry, I've done something wrong.
2012 Voice 1:
I am a hunter; a veteran; a gun enthusiast. This seems as much a part of who I am as my right arm. I don't consider myself a violent person. Really - I'm just a regular guy, nice enough with a wife and a family that I love.
This morning I had plans for some target shooting. The kids are not out of school yet. I thought I would blow off some steam just as I have done on a dozen other mornings.
But something went wrong this morning. I unlocked my safe and I stopped. I just couldn't bring myself to pick up a weapon so similar to the one that killed those children. For a second, I thought I was going a little nuts. Their little faces swam before my eyes. 'I am not like that,' I told myself. But I still didn't pick up the gun.
2012, Voice 2:
I work at Wal-mart. There you go. It's not a great job, but it keeps us all fed. I zip out at 2:45 to pick up the kids. It's nice being so close to their school. Especially this week, knowing that if I HAD to, I could run full out and be at the door in about 90 seconds. Today, I almost got fired. Maybe I should have been fired! A customer came into my department (I work in sporting goods... guess I should have mentioned that first). He was an average looking guy and he smiled at me. Not threatening or weird at all. He asked to look at a rifle. I unlocked the case and reached for it, but tears flooded my eyes. Crap! I ought to be able to hold it together. I mumbled an apology, but when I looked up, the guy wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, "Never mind, ma'am. Never mind." I was scared that he was going to find the manager and complain, but that was over an hour ago and I'm still here.
2012, Voice 3:
I made the kids turn off their video game this afternoon. My 15 year old started to complain (it comes so naturally to them at that age), but when he saw my face, he just said, "OK mom."
2012, Voice 4:
I'm a libertarian, but I'd give up any liberty you can name to bring those kids back. Sometimes, ideology can only take you so far.
2012, Voice 5:
Believe me when I tell you, I did NOT need this headache 4 days before Christmas. They just have to do their jobs! Unemployment is still high... I can always find someone to work. I'm HR regional manager for a large sporting goods chain. Some troublemaker is refusing to sell the guns in our stores. Evidently, it's a thing. One bleeding heart talks to another bleeding heart and before you know it I've got this huge headache (reference first sentence) and it's all landing on my desk.
Christmas season 2060, Voice 1:
I'm a college student, on my way back home for the break. I'm pre-law (overachiever!) with a buttload of classes every semester. This fall, my favorite class was Constitutional Law. The professor is a real nut, that kind of old-fashioned dude that your parents warned you about. I wrote my final paper on the dinosaurs in the Constitution. You know, those parts that just don't pertain to our culture any longer. The first dinosaur was the three-fifths clause, that part that counted slaves as 3/5 of a person to figure out representation in the Congress. So messed up. Next, I covered the history of alcohol prohibition. The most interested part of my paper was about the Second Amendment. It's still there... just check it out in the back of grandpa's dictionary. So evidently I have a right to be part of a militia. Abfab. I've never even seen a gun in person.
Christmas season 2060, Voice 2:
In 2012, the week of the Sandy Hook Elementary School Massacre, I was a 40-something mom. Now I'm a very old lady, but I still remember how tightly my friends and I held our precious babies that week. I still remember sobbing in the car as I listened to profiles of the teachers who lost their lives protecting their students. I still remember how I struggled to keep my peace that holiday season as some around the country clamored to arm teachers and place guards at school gates. What happened after that was so beautiful, so unexpected, so much a breaking through of grace into the world, I can only call it a miracle.
I want to write more, about how the world came to its senses... about how ordinary people made ordinary decisions that moved us away from the myth that somehow a little more violence will make things right. This little story is my grown-up Christmas wish for the world. Amen.