What the bad men don't know about us

Kristen Seine

Spectrum

My daughter woke up screaming a few nights ago. She'd had a dream -- something about bad men with knives. That was as much as I could get from her as I sat by her bed, stroking her head and assuring her that it wasn't really real and that everything was all right.

I cringed as I thought back at early news reports I had allowed her to see, unaware then of the scope of the tragedy that had hit our country.

Yes, she saw the plane fly into the World Trade Center. She saw the fires and the people running away from the buildings, covered in dust, as the towers crumbled. She heard the news reports about the terrorists on the airplanes, and apparently, she heard that they used knives to hijack them.

I wish I had not let her see all of that. But, at the same time, I realize that I cannot shelter her too much from the truth. I don't have much faith in modern psychology, but you don't need a Ph.D. to know that a 3-year-old's mind isn't very well equipped to process this kind of event. For that matter, neither is mine.

But what do I tell my daughter when she asks me why the bad men killed all those good people? And what do I say when she wants to know if it hurt to

die? She wants to know where the bad men went, and if and when they are coming here. And she wants to know why God let it all happen in the first place.

Frankly, I've had to tell her more than a couple times that I just don't know.

Like all of us, I am filled with rage at the people who did this to us. I don't know if they imagined the far-reaching effects their acts would have.

I don't know if they could have. Most likely, they would be thrilled to hear that even the smallest of children in this country have learned to be afraid. That American toddlers are refusing to go to sleep without a light on.

These people have taught my daughter a lesson I wasn't prepared for her to learn. Not for a long time. They took a little bit of innocence from her, and for that alone I would like to see them suffer.

I have read a lot of e-mails and articles lately that eloquently affirm the fact that the things that made our country the greatest in the world -- faith, freedom and justice -- are the things that will defeat these people and their twisted agenda. To those I would like to add a hearty "Amen," and humbly add my own observation.

Last night, as my kids got into bed, we said our prayers. A lot of people have been praying lately, and whether the Supreme Court and the ACLU like it or not, prayer is one of the pillars of the foundation of this country.

There is a God, and He's nothing like the one Osama Bin Laden and his associates pray to. We prayed last night for the people who were hurt and killed and lost, and for the moms and dads who can't find their children.

And we prayed for the soldiers who are bravely protecting us. That includes their Daddy. Then we thanked God for our blessings, among which my daughters listed the fact that God loves us.

Then my daughter asked me another question: "Mom, why don't the bad men say they are sorry? If they did, God would forgive them."

I paused and then said, "Yep, He would." And in that moment, I felt a surge of peace, and pride, and hope. I told my daughter she was right -- even as I still secretly hoped we would blow those people off the face of the earth.

But God would still forgive them. Because our God -- the one this country publicly thanks for its very existence -- is a God who loves. He is a God of justice, and that we should never forget, but He is also a God of compassion and mercy.

Even a 3-year-old can understand that. And as she closed her eyes, she added one final thought. "They'd better say they're sorry then, or they're going to really be in trouble."

Amen to that, kiddo.

So as I tucked my kids into bed and gave them one last kiss good-night (still leaving the hall light on, but we're working on that), I had to smile. Maybe the bad men taught my little girl a painful lesson about evil. About being vulnerable. And maybe even about death. But there's a whole lot that my kids could teach them.

And that's why we'll win.

Kristen Seine is a Mat-Su Borough resident and former Frontiersman reporter.