Christa McAuliffe

I was ten but I remember. We were in art class during the launch. Everyone. breathless.
Our teacher, Miss Young was her name and she was, Miss Young was like, “This is amazing kids, you’re painting beautiful pictures right now and getting to watch history in Art Class!”
We watched.
Then we gasped.
Then we blinked really fast,
Then we stopped painting.
We all died a little, as small children, that day.
That day we all stopped believing in Santa Claus and the police and the government.
That day we all felt a little less safe.
We stopped hoping as a generation.
We had seen too much.
Our teacher was afraid to smile or frown at us. She just opened her arms for hugs.
Worst. Day. Ever.


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