Sharon Sala Responds to School Mass Shooting in Novel, The Next Best Day - A Beautiful God Incident in Less Than 400 Pages...

 

"When in God's Name, will we do what we all know needs to be done!?" asks our President as he speaks to America after still another school mass shooting which occurred recently in Texas... 

And then the video above goes on to share that the governor, the past president and a congressman were heading for the national NRA convention where there would never be, if that group has its way, that the ban of military-style automatic guns and, more, a registration of guns in America, for instance, will never take place. All those things that republicans continue to refuse to even consider talking about and negotiating to bring about REAL responses to the horrendous reputation for America being the only country that "hosts" mass shootings!

And the video goes on to say that those suffering from so many deaths are tired of hearing "we will be thinking and praying for you..." THAT IS JUST NOT AN ACCEPTABLE RESPONSE ANYMORE... Yet those of us who want gun reform know that unless the republican party is zapped into a major change--perhaps one that is based upon God's Judgment of those who refuse to stop the flood of dead children down the river of republican stubborness and selfish concern for themselves and power... We have no words that can be given to those with unforgettable and unforgivable hate that has encircled those in power of the party... 

And, once again, a writer takes up her pen to spotlight the pain and suffering and the real inability to put such trauma aside and return to a former life that has been so drastically changed... Sala has done an excellent job of placing this last horror and many others school shootings into each reader's memory--a memory that will stand strong as the nation, and each of us, are fighting to force A STOP TO KILLING CHILDREN, just by being willing to acknowledge that the proliferation of so many guns, available anywhere and everywhere...MUST be accepted as the PROBLEM to be solved!

What the hell am I supposed
 to be learning from all this crap?

 

The silence within the walls was broken only by the sounds of weeping. Boyd French cleared his throat and continued, and so did the slide show, as he move on to the recognition of each of the twelve students who’d been wounded, and then the last picture was one of Katie. 

“All of you…those who were not wounded, and those who were…those who we lost, and those who were saved, are heroes because you did everything right. It was the stranger who did everything wrong. But in the midst of all the tragedy, first-grade teacher Katie McGrath shielded two of her students with her body, took the bullets meant for them, and saved their lives, and for that we come today to also honor Miss McGrath. Katie, would you please come forward?” 

Katie stood, her knees shaking. And as she began walking toward the podium, everyone in the gym began chanting her name. “Katie! Katie! Katie! Katie!” Boyd held up his hand, then pulled a plaque from a shelf beneath the sound system. “Katie, on behalf of the Albuquerque public school system and Saguaro Elementary, it is my honor to present this award. It reads: ‘To Katie McGrath, for courage, bravery, and sacrifice in the line of fire.’” He handed it to Katie, who was visibly overwhelmed as she clutched it to her. 

“Are you okay to say a few words?” he whispered. She nodded, then moved to the microphone and took a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you. This is unexpected, and such an honor. But it feels strange to accept an award for doing the same thing every other teacher here was doing that day. We were all putting ourselves between your children and the danger they were in. Every year, your children, who you entrust to our care, become ours for a little while each day. We work hard to make sure they are learning what matters. 

“Some days we want to wring their necks. Some days we are so proud of them for how hard they try. And every day we love them. Enough to die for them, which is what happened here. I don’t know why I’m still here, but all I can assume is that I am supposed to be. Again, thank you for this recognition, and thank you for the hundreds of letters and well-wishes that were sent to me.” 

The audience gave her a standing ovation as she walked back to her chair, wiping tears as she went. The principal ended the program with a final announcement. “Earlier this morning, we unveiled five wooden benches on the playground. Each bench has a name etched on it to commemorate a precious life that was lost here. Yes, the names will be reminders of our tragedy, but as time passes, the benches will also come to represent a place to rest from the innocence of play, and for teachers to sit while they watch over your children on the playgrounds. 

We will not forget. 

“Now, this concludes our program. Students, unless your parents are here, you will return to your classes. Parents, if you wish to take your children home with you at this time, they will be excused. Just notify their teachers before you leave with them. And…Katie, I think your class is going back to their room with their parents and teacher in hope that you will stop by to visit with them before you leave...”

~~~

Sala's main character is a school teacher in a small town school and is beloved by her students. In fact, when the shooting started, you could tell, just as many brave souls are doing across the nation, that this school teacher was prepared and willing to strive to save all of her children, even to the point where she might be killed in acting to do so. 

Katie McGrath, the teacher and main character, was looking forward to being married in her near future. One of the important reasons she was so happy was that she was, in addition to gaining a husband, she was also gaining a family... Katie had been a foster kid and by 12 realized that there were few, if any, people who really cared about her...Her attitude started to reflect what was surely a defense mechanism against being hurt...again...

Once she graduated from high school in Chicago and left the foster care system, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She wanted to be a teacher, and with the help of a couple of grants and working two jobs for four years, she put herself through college. 

Coming to Albuquerque to teach, which was where she was now, was also where she met Mark Roman. He was a farm boy from Kansas who had a junior position in a CPA firm, while Katie taught at Saguaro Elementary. Now, three years later, here they were, ready to take that next step in their relationship, and she couldn’t be happier. She was just getting out of the shower when she got a text from Lila Reece, a fellow teacher who’d become her best friend, and today, her maid of honor. It was a “good morning, good luck, see you at the chapel” kind of message, but it brought reality to the day. 

It was time to get moving. After breakfast, Katie loaded up her things, made a quick trip to her hairdresser, then hurried off to the chapel to meet Lila. Lila was short, blond, and curvy—the opposite of Katie, who was tall with dark shoulder-length hair and the metabolism Lila longed for. When Katie pulled up in the parking lot, Lila helped carry in the dress and everything that went with it. “I love your hair!” Lila said, eyeing the smooth, silky strands as they headed inside. 

Katie smiled. “Thanks. This style works really well with the veil,” she said. They spent the next couple of hours getting ready in one of the dressing rooms, laughing and talking. Gordy Thurman, Mark’s best man, arrived early, too, and popped in to give her a thumbs-up. “Hey, Katie, you look beautiful. So do you, Lila,” he said. 

“Thanks,” Katie said. “Is Mark here yet?” “Not yet, but we both know Mark Roman is never going to be the early bird. He’ll be here soon,” Gordy said, then waved and went to find the men’s dressing room. The wedding chapel was a popular venue, even though the wedding wasn’t going to be a large one. Just Katie and Mark. A maid of honor and a best man…and fifty guests.

And that young woman, who once had a chip on her shoulder, and who had opened up her heart for love, finally...was left at the altar, or at least at the church...

Lila reached for Katie with both arms and pulled her up and then hugged her so hard. “I’m so sorry, Katie. I’m stunned. I can’t believe he just—” 

Katie pushed Lila away and took a deep breath. “I should have known. I should have known. I have never been enough,” she mumbled. “God give me strength.” Then she tore off the veil, tossed it aside, yanked up the front of her skirt with both hands so she wouldn’t trip, and strode out of the dressing room.

~~~

Her only salvation was to continue working, teaching her little children, knowing that they loved her, they never thought to lie, but openly expressed all that they wanted to share with their loved ones and that, included, their teacher... She would get over this latest rejection...

And then just as she was thinking that it couldn't get worse, she was still happily discussing whose turn it was to lead her class to the lunch room, and as they walked, she heard shooting. Quickly turning the children around, she moved toward the nearest classroom, which, thankfully, was her best friend's room, who immediately unlocked the door and let the children move through the door. It was then that Katie saw that two of her children were still in the hall. They were crying; one boy had fallen and the other was trying to help him. Another teacher came up beside her to help... Only to be shot. Katie did not think, concerned only for her two students, she fell on top of them and lay there as she began to feel the shots that entered the back of her body...

It was not hard for me to realize what would come next for Katie. Though the tragedy might be different for Katie and me, I knew that she would be going into PTSD... and it didn't take long before it began...right after she had been recognized as one of the heroes that day...

He offered her his elbow, and she slipped her hand beneath it. Together, they made their way through the exodus of guests. 

They were about halfway there when Katie realized where they were and immediately looked down. When she did, she stumbled and would have fallen if the principal hadn’t caught her. 

“I’m sorry,” Katie said. “I just realized where we were. It took me off guard.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Boyd said. Katie shuddered and started walking, almost at a run, as if to get away from the area, and Boyd hurried to catch up. 

“That’s where Coach Lincoln was shot. We were running,” Katie said. 

“Oh my,” Carl said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” 

Katie shook her head. “It’s not your fault. Everything in this building triggers a memory now. It is what it is.” 

And then they were at the door to her room. 

“I can take it from here,” she said. “What’s the substitute teacher’s name?” 

“Um…Abby King,” he said. “Thank you,” Katie said. She took a deep breath and knocked, then pushed the door ajar. There were parents lined up against the walls, and a short, thirty-something woman wearing a yellow smock and purple pants standing beside the desk. She had a turned-up nose, pink hair, and a pencil stuck behind her ear. She looked like a living, breathing fairy. How absolutely perfect, Katie thought, and then smiled. 

“May I come in?” Abby King turned and opened her arms wide like she was going to hug her. “Yes! Yes! Welcome back!” Abby said. 

Katie waved at the parents and barely got the door closed behind her before she was engulfed. Twenty familiar little faces were turned up to her. Hands were touching and petting, and all of them were talking at once. And then she saw Alejandro and Kieran pushing their way through the crowd, and they were crying. When they got to her, they just wrapped their arms around her legs and held on. 

Abby King immediately took control of the situation. “Children, let’s give Miss Katie a little room, okay? You will all get a chance to talk to her personally. Each of you find your spot on the floor in the reading circle, and Miss Katie can sit in the teacher chair, okay? Parents can listen in, but I think today is for Miss Katie and her class.” 

At that point, Katie put her purse and the award aside and dropped to her knees, hugging the boys to her. “We thought you died,” Alejandro said. “I’m sorry I fell down. You came back for us.” Kieran nodded. “You sure can run fast, Miss Katie. Thank you for coming back.” 

Katie knew if she cried now, everyone in the room would be in tears. “Of course I went back to get you both, and Alejandro…everyone falls down. It’s the getting back up that matters. And we all got up and ran, didn’t we? And we’re safe now. Okay?”

“Okay,” they echoed, and then hugged her again. 

“We heard you tell us not to talk and not to move, and we did just what you said,” Kieran whispered. 

“I’m so proud of you for following orders. It was important, wasn’t it?” she said. 

Alejandro nodded, then reached up and patted her cheek. “You said you loved us. Just like Mama says when she tucks me in at night.” 

Katie’s eyes welled. “And I do love you. All of you. You are so precious to me. Now. Let’s go find our place in the reading circle, okay?”

And then something wonderful happened. A wonderful writer, with both sympathy and empathy, brought the characters and readers all into one closed circle of sharing. Sharon Sala knew by page 36 of a novel that held 399 pages, that all of us were totally involved in a reality where little childrens and adults can be murdered by somebody who has been incited to hate... And to act on that hate...

And she then began to weave a story, recognizing the trauma experienced by both the characters and we readers who have experienced that reality on today's news--of one mass shooting after another. Sala wrote exactly what we readers needed to see. We saw, first, the aftermath of a school shooting, and the dreams that left her main character, waking, frightened, and running--running, trying to get away from the shooter. While at the same time, being afraid for her students... And like I did, finally, Katie realized that she could not stay in a place where so much had happened that she could just not, in any way, forget and...get over...

The 300+ pages of the  last part of the story is what I remembered after finishing the book. This author has a wonderful ability to create charactrs who we can easily think of as our neighbors, or our friends made while working... Her writing becomes smooth, a lovely flow of quietly moving forward from what cannot be forgotten, yet, in a most beautiful way allow a new life, far grander than could be imagined, to begin.

“Yes, they do, Billy, and thank you for letting me wander about in here. It was such a pleasure to meet you.” 

“The pleasure was mine,” he said, and then took an object from beneath the counter and set it before her. “I would be honored if you would accept this little gift from me to you. The figurine sitting at her dresser reminded me a bit of you. While it is within a globe, it is not a snow globe. It is a music box. If you wind it up, it plays ‘Clair de Lune,’ which is one of my favorite music-box tunes. I don’t know who it belonged to, and you don’t know who you belonged to, and it’s quite charming, as are you. I wanted you to have your own antique. 

I have cleared it and blessed it, so there are no lingering entities attached…but who knows? It may be the trigger to an antiques addiction of your own.” Katie’s eyes welled. Tears rolled before she could stop them, and then she couldn’t get her emotions under control. “I don’t know… Nobody ever… Oh my God…thank you. You have no idea how treasured this will be.” 

Billy wrapped the music box in layer after layer of tissue, then boxed it up and slipped it into a gift bag. “Your joy is my joy,” Billy said. “Enjoy. And if the music box quits playing, bring it in. I know how to fix them.” 

“Yes…oh my…thank you,” Katie said, blinking back tears. She carried the bag clutched to her breasts as if it was a newborn as she left the store. Billy Arnold hadn’t just given her a gift. He had acknowledged her existence. Katie’s real identity was a mystery, as was the original owner of this music box. They’d both been lost by fate and time until Billy had become their intermediary. Billy had cared enough to give Katie her own antique, and the music box was no longer lost. She felt grounded by another woman’s history—a woman she would never know. 

She drove away, still blinking back tears. She was too full…spilling over from the love she’d been given. She’d been acknowledged. She felt seen. She drove until she found an empty parking lot, then pulled in and parked before she realized it was a church. She sat for a few minutes, trying to pull herself together and wondering at the irony of ending up here at this moment. Katie’d quit talking to God years ago because she didn’t think He was listening. She would pray for a family. She’d pray to be removed from one bad foster home to another. She’d prayed to be rescued…somehow…in any way He saw fit. But it never happened. And the broken broken child she was believed God could neither see nor hear her because she did not matter. 

Now, when the most wonderful thing had just happened to her, she found herself here. She laughed, but in it were the sounds of anger and disbelief. “What am I supposed to do here?” she cried. “Bow down at Your feet when You left mine bare? Join a church and listen to a man I don’t know start telling me how I’m supposed to live? If You’ve been following the shit show that has been my life, what about it do You expect me to thank You for?” She closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat, choking on sobs...

A lovely story by Sharon Sala will, if you allow it, grace your heart and home with a presence that, often, many of us feel will never come to us...and, yet, at the perfect time, it seems, brings us back into a very real awareness that God is indeed watching us and that he does have a plan, even though it may take years before the life unfolds before us, as if, it was always meant to be... That is a gift that Sala has given to me and, I hope, to you...

For when we see the hate right now in America, incited purely for a show of power as opposed to any real feeling except selfishness... We must find solace. For me, it was reading The Next Best Day. A truly memorable book of God's Love and His Plan...

God Bless,

Gabbie

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