I’m not in the habit of turning on the TV in the morning. Usually, if the weather is “iffy” I’ll check the weather, but I usually prefer to read my paper and drink my coffee.
This morning, for some reason I turned it on. And saw the news that the body of eight year old Sandra Cantu was discovered. She was found stuffed into a suitcase in an irrigation pond.
Footage from a neighborhood security camera taken the day she was abducted showed Sandra skipping across the street. The blurry image could very easily have been my six year old Keely. Hot tears in my eyes as I watched.
Can you imagine? Can you imagine how Sandra’s mother feels? The guilt she will feel for the rest of her life? Second guessing her actions. The mental image that will loop in her brain up of what Sandra must have felt and experienced during that time. Will she ever sleep peacefully again?
Was it a random, impulsive action from the evil housed in a human body that took that little girl? Or was it someone she knew and trusted with the innocence that we try to preserve in our children?
It makes me want to keep my daughter in my sight, to hold her tightly whenever we leave the safety of home. I want to put a bubble around her to keep her safe.
I pray for Sandra’s mother. And when I pick my little girl up today from school I will hold her extra tight. Smell the Keely scent of her neck and hair. Tell her I love her.