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Suffer the little children to come unto Me ... for of such is the kingdom of God. -- Mark 10:14 This is supposed to be the season for stealing merry midnight glimpses of our children, nestled all snug in their beds, while icicle lights gleam in the windows. But holiday spirits this year hang low, like evergreen boughs after a mighty snowstorm. The shock of Sept. 11 has melted, but not the sorrow. It is difficult to look in on my own blissfully sleeping toddler without thinking of the empty cribs and broken hearts of children whose lives were stolen or shattered by evil terrorists. Eight children were murdered on hijacked airliners that crashed on Sept. 11. Christine Hanson, 3, was on United Airlines Flight 175 with her parents. She was on her first trip to Disneyland. Christine was brown-eyed and rosy-cheeked and button-nosed. At family meals, she made everyone stand and hold hands while singing the theme song from Barney. During Christine's funeral, mourners re-enacted the scene, singing: "I love you, you love me ... " Two other youngsters rode on Christine's flight. Juliana McCourt, 4, was traveling with her mom. The smiling tot with pixie bangs was also on her way to Disneyland. David Brandhorst, 3, was traveling with his adoptive dad and his companion. Blessed with chestnut hair, chubby hands and blue eyes, David liked riding high on every toddler's favorite perch: Daddy's shoulders. Sisters Zoe Falkenberg, 8, and Dana, 3, accompanied their parents on American Airlines Flight 77. The family was headed to Australia for a two-month adventure. Zoe collected snow globes and Beanie Babies. She and curly-haired Dana took swimming lessons at their local YMCA. A guitarist played "Puff the Magic Dragon" at the girls' funeral.
