It reminds me of Anna Quindlen’s novel, Every Last One. A Christmas party. A boy rejected by his mother. A nurturing neighbor so engrossed with her own family that she did not intervene when she might have – years before, when both the boy and his mother desperately needed her help. The story’s shocking ending only hints at the neighbor’s oversight. No blame. And yet it is she who suffers most in the final analysis.

The book is fiction. We can only speculate as to what happened in the tragic case of Adam Lanza. And so I ask myself, was there someone who could have made a difference for Lanza and his mother – before he shot up Sandy Hook Elementary School on Friday?

For weeks I’ve been caught up in Christmas projects, happily making, doing, and mailing. Even ignoring my beloved blog. Until yesterday.

Read the rest of my latest blog post at

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Jan. 27, 2013 at 12:57 PM

Terrible tragedy.

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