Making Copies. . .

Somehow I got roped into making copies every Friday for the whole 5th grade.

Do you know how many trees they've used up?

Anyway. . . while I was nearing the end of my stint at the copy machine,

the intruder alert went on.

I went into the nearest classroom and sat in a corner with a bunch of cute 1st graders.

Their teacher was admonishing them to make no noise.

Some were giggling, completely oblivious to the reason for this drill.

Others looked a little nervous, kneeling down, crouched forward with their hands covering their head.

After a few minutes someone in the hall tried the door handle.

The door was locked, but with that small sound the tension in the room raised.

Was an intruder really here?

Flashes of what happened in the schools where intruders really entered raced into my mind.

What would I do?

Looking at those pure, innocent, little ones, I hoped I would make that intruder wish they'd never stepped foot in this building.

What is this world coming to?