A mother walks out of the house with her baby girl. She carefully places her in the child safety seat and puts a toy and a pacifier next to her. She keeps an eye on her throughout the trip.
The mother turns on the radio, or perhaps she plays a CD with children’s songs. Perhaps she sings to her child, or just talks to her, or whispers her baby’s name.
There is so much joy in this small scene. So much innocence. A simple, daily routine of a mother and daughter. How many times have all of us done this simple act - walking out of the house with our baby?
We are so familiar with the attention given to every action; the great caution we exercise while driving, deeply concentrating so this short ride will end with no harm.
What did the mother think when she felt the huge blow? How many seconds passed before she realized what was going on? Did she realize it was a terror attack, or did she think it was a road accident? Did she scream? Did her arm automatically reach out to protect her baby?
Did she realize those were her last moments, and what did she see before her eyes a moment before she died?
A four-month-old baby found herself in the midst of a terror attack on Wednesday. What will she remember, this baby? What has been etched in her consciousness? Is it the song she heard a moment before the blow, or her mother smiling at her in the mirror? Would it be her mother’s scream, or perhaps the sight of her mom trapped in her seat, already dead?
The baby is carried by a paramedic. A stranger she never saw before. She is taken away from the scene of the attack, away from the loud sirens and screams of pain, away from the fear and the horror. She is being handed over from one person to another, her small body frightened and restless.
A baby survived a terror attack. Her body is intact, but she’s an orphan.