Newtown Strong.

There are no words to describe the pain I have felt these past few days as the nation has mourned with a small Connecticut town that before Friday, was simply the place I was raised. A place that when claimed as my hometown in casual conversation would typically illicit a blank stare, to which I would relate it to some bigger areas. But almost compulsively, I would carry on to describe it as a colonial pleasantville I had the pleasure of growing up in. It was like sharing a secret I kept close to my heart, knowing someone would never quite understand until they drove around the flag pole, walked through Ram Pasture, saw the Rooster weathervane dating back to the Revolutionary war, sat in the colorful and warm classrooms, or simply called it home themselves. But now, to many who never heard of Newtown, Connecticut before Friday (or who still think it is called Newton...), it is just a place of a heartbreaking and indescribable tragedy, splashed across world news outlets as the scene of the crime and trending on twitter synonymous with murder and despair. And for me, this is simply not acceptable because Newtown is so much more.

I was lucky. My parents decided to move my family to Newtown when I was 5 years old, about to enter elementary school, because the school systems are, and will continue to be, the best in the nation. And in the 10 years I grew up there, that community was my playground, my safe place, my home. It encompasses so many sweet memories of walking hand in hand with my sister in the Labor Day Parade, ice skating on the Atkinson's pond, gathering around the largest pine tree in town like a Dr. Seuss illustration to watch it light up in its imperfect glory to welcome the Christmas season. Newtown is where being undefeated swim team champs is as celebrated as having won Olympic gold. Where the musical productions are Broadway worthy. Where I believed the General Store and the Ice Cream Shop were the only two establishments I needed for nourishment. Where I learned to open my first locker, had my first date with the boy next door, experienced my first kiss and rode around in my sister's first car - the old beat up Buick later sold to My Place restaurant for deliveries. Newtown is where it's possible to see a movie for under $3.00 and where sitting in church is like praying in your family room.

Out of this tragedy there is one thing I want everyone to know and hold dear to their heart. While so much has changed for my hometown, so much never could. Our hearts break, but the heart of Newtown is strong and it will continue to beat with the history of goodness and tenacity that shapes it. It will always be a community I am proud to have been apart of. It is still my hometown and I am thankful now more than ever that my parents made the choice to move my family there, because I would not trade it for anything. Newtown raised me into a woman who understands the beauty of caring neighbors, the impact of an amazing education and the influence of a strong and wonderful community. For that I will be forever grateful, forever indebted and forever blessed.

My every thought and prayer is with you, Newtown - with the victims, first responders, children, families, and teachers of Sandy Hook Elementary School. My heart is breaking, but I know you will rebuild and you will be healed because you are resilient, because God is good and ever present and because heaven now has 26 more angels who will guard and bless you forever.