“Practice whatever
you’ve learned or heard from me, or seen in Me." ~ Philippians
4:9
The simple, rural life she knew
shattered on Oct. 2, 2006, when her oldest son, Charlie Roberts, stormed into a
one-room Amish schoolhouse carrying three guns and a childhood grudge. He ordered the boys and adults to leave
before barricading the doors and opening fire on a dozen little girls between
the ages of 6 and 13.
Five died; others were badly injured. Then the 32-year-old husband and father of
three young kids took his own life.
Terri Roberts heard the sirens and heard helicopters. Soon her husband Chuck’s sunken eyes revealed
the unthinkable, the unimaginable. Their
son Charlie had been the executioner.
Terri crawled into a fetal position, feeling as if her
insides were ripped apart. Chuck, a
retired cop, wept into a towel; his mind laid waste by the brutality of the tragedy.
Amish parents waited in a nearby barn for news about which
of their daughters had survived.
Minds stuttering for their
emotions to catch up, they shared stories, consoled each other, and prayed for their
community. Feelings of anger, hostility,
or retaliation were completely absent.
Nearby, a knock at the door came softly;
then silence. Chuck cringed. Had they come to avenge their son’s murderous
rampage? He rose in the weakened state
of a man both frightened and grief-stricken.
Henry, an Amish neighbor with full grey beard sans mustache,
glared back at him though the peephole.
When Chuck opened the door, a dozen or so Amish men also stepped into
view.
“We come in peace Roberts,” Henry explained in a gentle
voice. "We love you and don't hold
anything against you or your son.” Henry
stepped forward and massaged Chuck’s defeated shoulders. "We are a forgiving people!"
The Amish didn’t see them as enemies. They saw them as parents who were grieving the
loss of their child, too. Later they
would donate money to the killer's widow and children.
Terri Roberts wrote a book, “Forgiven:
The Amish School Shooting,” about the touching relationship she developed
with the Amish community in the aftermath.
Once a week until her death in
2017, Terri spent time with a 13-year-old victim named Rosanna who sat in a
wheelchair and ate through a tube after being shot in the head. She bathed and talked to her, brushed her
hair, read books and sang hymns. Chuck
began a second career driving families to places farther away than their horses
and buggies could carry them.
For most people, a decision to forgive comes, if ever, at
the end of a long emotional journey that may stretch over years. The Amish invert the process. Their religious tradition predisposes them to
forgive even before an injustice occurs, believing that God's long arm of
justice removes the need for human intervention.
God, we pray for those who suffer injustice and
those who suffer senseless violence. Only
the miracle of peace will bring about healing. Use us however You will to bring
about Your peace in this broken world. In
Jesus. ~ Amish Prayer