It was a dawn like every other. The forecast called for a cold day and I had planned to send her favourite mushroom soup in a thermos to warm her up during lunch. I had put out the clothes the previous night – long sleeve gray undershirt, a short sleeve pink tee with roses, fleece pants and jacket. It was supposed to be normal Thursday before the winter break.

My stomach was clenched and the strong elachi chai I usually started my day with threatened to reappear. I stood at the window watching the yellow, red and brown leaves fall one at a time. Drifting slowly in the wind making its way to the ground. I watched the lone leaf thinking about all the evil in the world we live in. Evil so fluid and swift, seeping through places and cracks that it wasn’t supposed to be in.

I know across the hallway my daughter was still safely cuddled up with her stuffed panda toy. She was probably dreaming about penguins (her latest love) and glitter, building blocks and magnets. I also knew in a few hours she would have to head to school.

Sending my daughter to school isn’t a scary thing usually but then there was nothing usual about the day. The Houston Independent School District was being threatened via email. The threats weren’t credible or so I was informed and schools were open as usual. Los Angles and New York school districts just went through a similar episode and in a strange way that fact helped. I also knew Dallas and Miami school districts had received threats.

The parents groups I belong to on WhatsApp went crazy. They were ranting and raving like I was. They were torn and conflicted. Their stomachs were pits of burning coal just like mine. I silently scrolled through every message. I leaned on my Twitter friends for support. I breathed in hard and wondered what I am supposed to tell my 6 year old first grader before I sent her to school.

The sun rose, rather reluctantly. The cold air clung around causing us to huddle inside jackets. We spoke – my daughter and I. She handled it much better than I thought she would. Her school had practiced and discussed safety in different scenarios and my daughter was all set to take on the world. I tried one last time, because I had to. I am the parent and within me there was a storm of emotions threatening to bury me. “Your friends won’t be in school. Do you want to go?” She shrugged her shoulders and said yes.

The routine mad morning dash followed. As I dropped my daughter off, I told myself to behave normal. It was hard. All I wanted to do was to take her in my arms and absorb some of that excitement and serenity she had. I waved her goodbye and tried to get on with my day.

I fall back to words as I worry. I am constantly checking the news and the school district website. As I was typing this, I got another message from the district.

School is in session today, and no issues have been reported. Teaching and learning are continuing as usual. Though the threat is not believed to be credible, HISD is taking every precaution possible to ensure safety.

I wish I could unwind and unclench those tight muscles along my shoulders. I wish I could stop the turbulent washing machine within me, churning away, creating bubbles and making me nervous. I wish and I wait.