In the days since the surreal horror of December 14th, the author's children have responded to the tragedy differently. His daughter is a first grader, and she lost many of her friends to the gunman. She has been melancholy, sad in a way only a child who feels but does not understand her feelings can be. His 9-year-old son has been less sad and more frightened, locking every door he passes and imagining every sound as the precursor to an impending attack. Thinking about the event, the courage drained out of him. So he thought of his children's new school: every message of hope and love and support from around the country and the world that decorated the stairwells; and every teacher and administrator and secretary and custodian that would be at work, despite their own fears. All of these things that he had seen and knew would be there for his children that day, they soothed him and allayed his fears. He is thankful to the school, to the staff and the faculty and the administration who made his son, and him, feel safe again.