The Children
By Carl S. ~
We can never forget. It was only a week ago, two hours after Vacation Bible School. Jim Preston, the trusted and beloved counselor at VBS, had the children bring their pets along to a picnic down by the river.
Later that afternoon, we heard the children screaming and crying down on the river bank. We thought something terrible had happened to one of them, or Jim himself. Every mother's worst fears came out, all hearts beat rapidly; everyone was in a panic to get there.
When we arrived, we found Jim pulling the pets from the struggling kid's arms and shoving the kids aside. He was flinging every one of the pets into the rushing river current, where they didn't have a chance.
We got there just as the last three pets went under, and restrained him. The kids were hysterical; we just couldn't console them. There was no warning; no way anyone could have predicted this.
I screamed at Jim, "What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy? What's going on with you?"
He said it was "fun," "satisfying," and added, "I'm not answerable to you people. Who are you to question me? I know how you get drunk, cheat, watch pornography. You're just rotten to the core. You need to be taught a lesson, because you're all bad!"
"No!” I shouted, “We're not, and never have been! Why are you taking it out on our children, innocent kids, because you're angry at US? Why not have the guts to say something about this, at least give us a hint? Just how much hate and fury have you been keeping from us?"
He sneered, "The children were next."
It's time to have a safety recall on those cute toy arks with their cuddly little animals. They are hazardous to children’s (and adults) moral understanding.
We can never forget. It was only a week ago, two hours after Vacation Bible School. Jim Preston, the trusted and beloved counselor at VBS, had the children bring their pets along to a picnic down by the river.
Later that afternoon, we heard the children screaming and crying down on the river bank. We thought something terrible had happened to one of them, or Jim himself. Every mother's worst fears came out, all hearts beat rapidly; everyone was in a panic to get there.
When we arrived, we found Jim pulling the pets from the struggling kid's arms and shoving the kids aside. He was flinging every one of the pets into the rushing river current, where they didn't have a chance.
We got there just as the last three pets went under, and restrained him. The kids were hysterical; we just couldn't console them. There was no warning; no way anyone could have predicted this.
I screamed at Jim, "What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy? What's going on with you?"
He said it was "fun," "satisfying," and added, "I'm not answerable to you people. Who are you to question me? I know how you get drunk, cheat, watch pornography. You're just rotten to the core. You need to be taught a lesson, because you're all bad!"
"No!” I shouted, “We're not, and never have been! Why are you taking it out on our children, innocent kids, because you're angry at US? Why not have the guts to say something about this, at least give us a hint? Just how much hate and fury have you been keeping from us?"
He sneered, "The children were next."
It's time to have a safety recall on those cute toy arks with their cuddly little animals. They are hazardous to children’s (and adults) moral understanding.
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