Broken Lives

Broken Lives

Broken Lives

I’m sorry to say I have made another unfortunate mosaic today, and just after I posted on my flickr site such a happy, flowery one, too.  At first glance, this one looks flowery, which might be an appropriate memorial for those many killed and wounded in a clinic at Fort Hood, Texas.  Yesterday afternoon I hadn’t heard any news until I went to work at the Micah 6 food pantry in the evening.  A friend and I were filling in a shift for two sick colleagues.  My friend and fellow volunteer was receiving phone calls from all over the world during the evening, enquiring after her whereabouts.  She is a counselor on the Ft. Hood Army Base in Killeen, TX, where an army major opened fire in the place where soldiers receive their final medical check-up before being deployed oversees.  My friend’s day job is trying to help “the kids”, as she calls the soldiers on the base, cope with war and drug dependency.  Yesterday she happened to be in the city at an appointment, rather than on base an hour up the road.  She knows the shooter; saw him every week as he came in to treat psychiatric patients.  Today she was back at work, trying to figure out how to engender trust in people who believe that they can never trust again.  How many lives has the killer destroyed?

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