The Amish and us
Read this:
Could you do that? Could you stand over the body of a dead child and tell the young not to hate her killer? I could not. Please God, make me into the sort of man who could.
I've spent the afternoon reading the syndicated opinion wires, looking for a column about the Amish situation. Something, anything to bring meaning out of it. Hope. Tragedy. Pity. Something.
There are more Foleygate columns than you could possibly read. But only one on the Amish. I think that says something about us, or at least our media. The most meaningful thing we have seen all week is not anything to do with Foley or the GOP. No, the most meaningful thing is the image of that grandfather, instructing the young not to hate.
A grieving grandfather told young relatives not to hate the gunman who killed five girls in an Amish schoolhouse massacre, a pastor said on Wednesday.
"As we were standing next to the body of this 13-year-old girl, the grandfather was tutoring the young boys, he was making a point, just saying to the family, 'We must not think evil of this man,'" the Rev. Robert Schenck told CNN.
"It was one of the most touching things I have seen in 25 years of Christian ministry."
Could you do that? Could you stand over the body of a dead child and tell the young not to hate her killer? I could not. Please God, make me into the sort of man who could.
I've spent the afternoon reading the syndicated opinion wires, looking for a column about the Amish situation. Something, anything to bring meaning out of it. Hope. Tragedy. Pity. Something.
There are more Foleygate columns than you could possibly read. But only one on the Amish. I think that says something about us, or at least our media. The most meaningful thing we have seen all week is not anything to do with Foley or the GOP. No, the most meaningful thing is the image of that grandfather, instructing the young not to hate.



