No title.

I am very lucky to have two granddaughters. We cherish them, and there is not one hour or so, I do not recall them. Their swing is in the yard and their scooters are in the winter garden. Sometimes I cannot put away their slippers when they have just left after a school holiday. Sometimes the news is so dreadful and arrogant that the only escape is to think about the luck we have to have them. Tonight I cannot decide to rest. The news is atrocious, it is real fate with no logical explanation. Yet a little girl died and a man will probably never find peace again. Probably, the primary school will be in deep mourning after this nonsensical accident. The driver was certainly an experienced one, on his way back from the Caen G8, he was an Army driver. The van was empty. The children were walking quietly back home, after school, on the pavement. I cannot take my mind away. I am back from several outings where I had so much happiness. I cannot get over this. And I cannot cry either. When I left Rouen on sunday afternoon I had spent some time in the Cathedral because I wanted to hear the sound of the organ, and during Mass which I joined I was granted this musical pleasure: the choir sang 'Le cantique de Jean Racine'. This is the only thought which reasures me, as without faith or any mystical type of belief such events have devastating effects. If only music could soothe these terrible thoughts and deep sorrows in the wounded hearts tonight in this small village near Tours?
(I did not realise the children were not going home, but walking to the sports grounds with their schoolteachers, for sports, so it was not the end of the schoolday, it occured in mid-afternoon.)