Funeral Service for Senator Daniel Inouye (Video/Transcript)

THE PRESIDENT:  To Irene, Ken, Jennifer, Danny's friends and former colleagues, it is an extraordinary honor to be here with you in this magnificent place to pay tribute to a man who would probably we wondering what all the fuss is about.

This Tuesday was in many ways a day like any other.  The sun rose; the sun set; the great work of our democracy carried on.  But in a fundamental sense it was different.  It was the first day in many of our lives -- certainly my own -- that the halls of the United States Congress were not graced by the presence of Daniel Ken Inouye.

Danny was elected to the U.S. Senate when I was two years old.  He had been elected to Congress a couple of years before I was born.  He would remain my senator until I left Hawaii for college.

Now, even though my mother and grandparents took great pride that they had voted for him, I confess that I wasn't paying much attention to the United States Senate at the age of four or five or six.  It wasn't until I was 11 years old that I recall even learning what a U.S. senator was, or it registering, at least.  It was during my summer vacation with my family -- my first trip to what those of us in Hawaii call the Mainland.

So we flew over the ocean, and with my mother and my grandmother and my sister, who at the time was two, we traveled around the country.  It was a big trip.  We went to Seattle, and we went to Disneyland -- which was most important.  We traveled to Kansas where my grandmother's family was from, and went to Chicago, and went to Yellowstone.  And we took Greyhound buses most of the time, and we rented cars, and we would stay at local motels or Howard Johnson's.  And if there was a pool at one of these motels, even if it was just tiny, I would be very excited. And the ice machine was exciting -- and the vending machine, I was really excited about that.

But this is at a time when you didn’t have 600 stations and 24 hours' worth of cartoons.  And so at night, if the TV was on, it was what your parents decided to watch.  And my mother that summer would turn on the TV every night during this vacation and watch the Watergate hearings.  And I can't say that I understood everything that was being discussed, but I knew the issues were important.  I knew they spoke to some basic way about who we were and who we might be as Americans.

And so, slowly, during the course of this trip, which lasted about a month, some of this seeped into my head.  And the person who fascinated me most was this man of Japanese descent with one arm, speaking in this courtly baritone, full of dignity and grace.  And maybe he captivated my attention because my mom explained that this was our senator and that he was upholding what our government was all about.  Maybe it was a boyhood fascination with the story of how he had lost his arm in a war.  But I think it was more than that.

Now, here I was, a young boy with a white mom, a black father, raised in Indonesia and Hawaii.  And I was beginning to sense how fitting into the world might not be as simple as it might seem.  And so to see this man, this senator, this powerful, accomplished person who wasn't out of central casting when it came to what you'd think a senator might look like at the time, and the way he commanded the respect of an entire nation I think it hinted to me what might be possible in my own life.

This was a man who as a teenager stepped up to serve his country even after his fellow Japanese Americans were declared enemy aliens; a man who believed in America even when its government didn't necessarily believe in him.  That meant something to me.  It gave me a powerful sense -- one that I couldn’t put into words -- a powerful sense of hope.

And as I watched those hearings, listening to Danny ask all those piercing questions night after night, I learned something else.  I learned how our democracy was supposed to work, our government of and by and for the people; that we had a system of government where nobody is above the law, where we have an obligation to hold each other accountable, from the average citizen to the most powerful of leaders, because these things that we stand for, these ideals that we hold dear are bigger than any one person or party or politician.

And, somehow, nobody communicated that more effectively than Danny Inouye.  You got a sense, as Joe mentioned, of just a fundamental integrity; that he was a proud Democrat, but most importantly, he was a proud American.  And were it not for those two insights planted in my head at the age of 11, in between Disneyland and a trip to Yellowstone, I might never have considered a career in public service.  I might not be standing here today.

I think it's fair to say that Danny Inouye was perhaps my earliest political inspiration.  And then, for me to have the privilege of serving with him, to be elected to the United States Senate and arrive, and one of my first visits is to go to his office, and for him to greet me as a colleague, and treat me with the same respect that he treated everybody he met, and to sit me down and give me advice about how the Senate worked and then regale me with some stories about wartime and his recovery -- stories full of humor, never bitterness, never boastfulness,  just matter-of-fact -- some of them I must admit a little off-color.  I couldn’t probably repeat them in the cathedral.  (Laughter.)  There’s a side of Danny that -- well.

Danny once told his son his service to this country had been for the children, or all the sons and daughters who deserved to grow up in a nation that never questioned their patriotism.  This is my country, he said.  Many of us have fought hard for the right to say that.  And, obviously, Rick Shinseki described what it meant for Japanese Americans, but my point is, is that when he referred to our sons and daughters he wasn’t just talking about Japanese Americans.  He was talking about all of us.  He was talking about those who serve today who might have been excluded in the past.  He’s talking about me.

And that’s who Danny was.  For him, freedom and dignity were not abstractions.  They were values that he had bled for, ideas he had sacrificed for, rights he understood as only someone can who has had them threatened, had them taken away.

The valor that earned him our nation’s highest military decoration -- a story so incredible that when you actually read the accounts, you think this -- you couldn’t make this up.  It’s like out of an action movie.  That valor was so rooted in a deep and abiding love of this country.  And he believed, as we say in Hawaii that we’re a single ‘ohana -- that we're one family.  And he devoted his life to making that family strong.

After experiencing the horror of war himself, Danny also felt a profound connection to those who followed.  It wasn’t unusual for him to take time out of his busy schedule to sit down with a veteran or a fellow amputee, trading stories, telling jokes -- two heroes, generations apart, sharing an unspoken bond that was forged in battle and tempered in peace.  In no small measure because of Danny’s service, our military is, and will always remain, the best in the world, and we recognize our sacred obligation to give our veterans the care they deserve.

Of course, Danny didn’t always take credit for the difference he made.  Ever humble, one of the only landmarks that bear his name is a Marine Corps mess hall in Hawaii.  And when someone asked him how he wanted to be remembered, Danny said, “I represented the people of Hawaii and this nation honestly and to the best of my ability.  I think I did okay.”

Danny, you were more than okay.  You were extraordinary.

It’s been mentioned that Danny ended his convention speech in Chicago in 1968 with the word, “aloha.”  “To some of you who visited us, it may have meant hello,” he said, but “To others, it may have meant goodbye.  Those of us who’ve been privileged to live in Hawaii understand aloha means I love you.”

And as someone who has been privileged to live in Hawaii, I know that he embodied the very best of that spirit, the very best of “aloha.”  It’s fitting it was the last word that Danny spoke on this Earth.  He may have been saying goodbye to us.  Maybe he was saying hello to someone waiting on the other side.  But it was a final expression most of all of his love for the family and friends that he cared so much about, for the men and women he was honored to serve with, for the country that held such a special place in his heart.

And so we remember a man who inspired all of us with his courage, and moved us with his compassion, that inspired us with his integrity, and who taught so many of us -- including a young kid growing up in Hawaii –-- that America has a place for everyone.
May God bless Daniel Inouye.  And may God grant us more souls like his.

President Obama Nominates John Kerry for Secretary of State (video/transcript)

Roosevelt Room

THE PRESIDENT:  Good afternoon, everyone.  When I took office, our nation was engaged in two wars, and al Qaeda was entrenched in their safe havens.  Many of our alliances were frayed, and America’s standing in the world had suffered.

Over the past four years, we’ve begun a new era of American leadership.  We ended the war in Iraq, put the al Qaeda core on the path to defeat, and we’re winding down the war in Afghanistan.  We’ve strengthened our alliances, including in Asia; forged new coalitions to meet global challenges; and stood up for human dignity, from North Africa to the Middle East to Burma.  We still, of course, face great challenges.  But today, I can say with pride that the United States is safer, stronger and more respected in the world.

In this work, I’ve been grateful for an extraordinary national security team.  Tom Donilon has been a part of that, and I’m grateful to him.  Of course, one of the most important people in this whole transformation has been our outstanding Secretary of State, my friend, Secretary Hillary Clinton.  Hillary wanted very much to be here today, but she continues to recuperate.  I had a chance to talk to her earlier today, and she is in good spirits and could not be more excited about the announcement that I’m making.

Over the last four years, Hillary has been everywhere -- both in terms of her travels, which have seen her represent America in more countries than any previous Secretary of State, and through her tireless work to restore our global leadership.  And she’s looking forward to getting back to work, and I am looking forward to paying tribute to her extraordinary service in the days to come.

Today, though, I’m looking ahead to my second term, and I am very proud to announce my choice for America’s next Secretary of State -- John Kerry.

In a sense, John’s entire life has prepared him for this role.  As the son of a Foreign Service officer, he has a deep respect for the men and women of the State Department -- the role they play in advancing our interests and values, the risks that they undertake and the sacrifices that they make along with their families.

Having served with valor in Vietnam, he understands that we have a responsibility to use American power wisely, especially our military power.  And he knows, from personal experience, that when we send our troops into harm’s way, we must give them the sound strategy, a clear mission, and the resources that they need to get the job done.
In an extraordinarily distinguished Senate career -- and as chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee -- John has played a central role in every major foreign policy debate for nearly 30 years.

As we turn the page on a decade of war, he understands that we’ve got to harness all elements of American power and ensure that they’re working together -- diplomatic and development, economic and political, military and intelligence -- as well as the power of our values which inspire so many people around the world.

As John has said, we are an exceptional nation “not because we say we are, but because we do exceptional things.”  And I’d say that one of the more exceptional things we’ve seen in recent decades was when John helped lead the way, along with folks like John McCain and others, to restore our diplomatic ties with Vietnam.  And when he returned to the country where he and so many others had fought so long ago, it sent a powerful message of progress and of healing.
Over these many years, John has earned the respect and confidence of leaders around the world.  He is not going to need a lot of on-the-job training.  He has earned the respect and trust of his Senate colleagues, Democrats and Republicans.  I think it’s fair to say that few individuals know as many presidents and prime ministers, or grasp our foreign policies as firmly as John Kerry.  And this makes him a perfect choice to guide American diplomacy in the years ahead.

On a personal level, John has been a great friend.  I’ve appreciated John’s partnership in helping to advance so many of my foreign policy priorities, including the ratification of the New START Treaty.  I’ve called on his talents and diplomatic skills on several occasions, on complex challenges from Sudan and South Sudan to the situation in Afghanistan.  And each time he has been exemplary.

Of course, I also have to say thanks because John invited a young Illinois state senator to address the Democratic Convention in Boston.  I was proud to serve with him on the Foreign Relations Committee under the tutelage of Joe Biden -- (laughter) -- and where we all became friends.  But of course nothing brings two people closer together than weeks of debate prep.  (Laughter.)

John, I’m looking forward to working with you instead of debating you.  (Laughter.)
Finally, I want to thank Teresa.  As someone who came to this country as an immigrant, she understands the shining values that America represents to the world.  As a former interpreter at the United Nations, she appreciates how our interests can be advanced in partnership with others.  Teresa, thank you so much for being John’s partner in this next endeavor.
I have to say I think I speak for John and Joe and myself  -- we just left Danny Inouye’s funeral, a man who exemplified the very best of the U.S. Senate tradition.  And so, I know that, John, it won’t be easy to leave the Senate that you love.  And I think it’s fair to say that there are going to be some great challenges ahead.  An uncertain world will continue to test our nation.

But even with all the challenges that we face, I have never been more confident, more optimistic, that if we act with wisdom and with purpose, and if we’re guided by our values, and we remind what binds us together as Americans, the United States will continue to lead in this world for our lifetimes.

So, John, I am very grateful that you’ve agreed to take on this new assignment.  I’m confident that the Senate will confirm you quickly.  I guess you won’t be able to actually appear and preside at the same time -- (laughter) -- so we’ll have to figure out how that works, but I know that you are going to be an outstanding Secretary of State.
Thank you so much.  Congratulations.  (Applause.)

The Killer at Thurston High

Watch The Killer at Thurston High on PBS. See more from FRONTLINE.

Fourteen Years Later, Looking Back at a School Shooting

by Philip Bennett

More than a decade ago, FRONTLINE set out to understand how a troubled young man with no history of violence could become a random killer in the halls of his high school. What clues in his background, experience or medical condition might help make sense of a senseless crime?
On May 20, 1998, 15-year-old Kip Kinkel shot and killed his mother and father. The next morning he opened fire on students at Thurston High School, killing two and wounding 25. Kinkel is serving a 111-year prison sentence in Oregon. Now 30, he has filed several appeals claiming that inadequate legal counsel kept him from pursuing an insanity plea.
The Killer at Thurston High, which first aired on Jan. 18, 2000, examines Kinkel’s childhood in a nurturing family in suburban Oregon and his transformation from a shy, lonely teenager into a methodical killer. The story draws on excerpts from Kinkel’s writings, his psychologist’s notes and interviews with his sister, schoolmates and family friends.
What explains Kinkel’s attack? As in the case of Adam Lanza, the consequences of the shooting are indelible while its causes remain largely opaque. And it is unknown whether the perpetrators of such crimes share much more in common than the indiscriminate toll in suffering they inflict.
But Kinkel, unlike Lanza, survived the shooting, and left an audio confession recorded by police. While not definitive and perhaps peculiar to his case, his testimony provides rare glimpse into the thinking and emotions of someone who would carry out such an attack.
The audio confession is part of broader discussion of the Connecticut violence in a PBS special broadcast, After Newtown, which will air tonight at 8 p.m. on PBS stations.  You can watch the full film of The Killer at Thurston High above.

 

Diplomatic Corps Holiday Reception

Gun control petition breaks record

WASHINGTON - In just three days since the Newtown school shooting, more than 150,000 people have signed a petition calling on US President Barack Obama to produce legislation that limits access to guns.

Support for the gun control drive, posted on the White House "We the People" website on Friday, neared 158,000 signatures at around 2200 GMT on Monday, already a new record for such a petition.

"Powerful lobbying groups allow the ownership of guns to reach beyond the Constitution's intended purpose of the right to bear arms," it says, referring to groups like the country's powerful National Rifle Association (NRA).

"Therefore, Congress must act on what is stated law, and face the reality that access to firearms reaches beyond what the Second Amendment intends to achieve," says the petition, available at www.whitehouse.gov.

"The signatures on this petition represent a collective demand for a bipartisan discussion resulting in a set of laws that regulates how a citizen obtains a gun," it says.

The United States is reeling from a massacre at an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut on Friday that left 20 young children and six adults dead.

The shooter, who is also believed to have killed his mother at the house they shared before embarking on the school massacre, took his own life as police closed in.

Obama vowed Sunday at an emotional vigil in the grief-stricken New England town to use all his power to stop such gun massacres happening again, saying "these tragedies must end."
The White House has not yet specified what Obama has in mind.

But there is talk of a drive to renew a ban on assault weapons which expired in 2004, and of limits on the availability and size of fast-firing magazines.

An assault weapon ban was passed in 1994 under president Bill Clinton but it expired in 2004 and was never resurrected. Obama supported restoring the law while running for president in 2008 but did not make it a priority during his first term.

© 1994-2012 Agence France-Presse

Washington’s Deceptions

Reform taxes? Fix Medicare? Yeah, right.

BY PAUL BEGALA

"POLITICAL SPEECH and writing," George Orwell wrote in a biting and brilliant critique, "are largely the defense of the indefensible." The most political of writers bemoaned the fact that "political language-and with variations this is true of all political parties, from Conservatives to Anarchists-is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind." Orwell was reacting to the desperate euphemisms employed by members of the British intelligentsia in his day who had taken to defending the indefensible savagery of Stalinism, but there are plenty of examples in today's debate over America's debt.

I tried to persuade Bill Clinton to mock one of today's more egregious euphemisms-the Republicans' use of words like "fix" to describe what they want to do to Medicare-as he prepared his speech to the Democratic National Convention in September. Here's the line I pitched him: "Every time I hear Mitt Romney or Paul Ryan say they want to 'fix' Medicare, it reminds me of when that veterinarian said he wanted to 'fix' my old dog Buddy. But it was not a fix. It was a cut, and there's a difference."

Our former president, you may be comforted to know, thought it best not to include in one of the most important speeches of the election a dog-castration joke. But the point I was trying to make remains important: beware of euphemisms-they mask mischief.

Republicans don't want to "fix" Medicare or “reform” Medicare. And Lord knows they don't want to "modernize" it or-as the deeply disingenuous Paul Ryan says-"protect and strengthen Medicare." No, they want to end it. Newt Gingrich showed admirable clarity of language in 1996 when he said of the agency that financed Medicare, "We believe it's going to wither on the vine because we think people are voluntarily going to leave it." When something withers on the vine, it dies.

Far too often the press simply accepts partisans' preferred euphemisms. For decades countries that traded freely with America were given a status called "Most Favored Nation." When I worked in the Clinton White House we sought such status for the People's Republic of China. But can you really call the land of Mao, the place of forced abortions and the mass murder in Tiananmen Square, a "Most Favored Nation"? We needed a euphemism. Someone came up with "Permanent Normal Trade Relations." Ahh, that's nicer, isn't it? Amazingly, everyone went along with it. MFN disappeared, PNTR became the euphemistic acronym that elite policymakers and journalists used.

But sometimes reporters use plain, true words that strip away the comforting lies. In describing the Ryan plan for Medicare The Wall Street Journal wrote, "The plan would essentially end Medicare, which now pays most of the health-care bills for 48 million elderly and disabled Americans, as a program that directly pays those bills." Under the GOP plan, when fully phased in, Medicare would no longer pay health-care costs for seniors. Instead, the elderly would be given a voucher (with the euphemistic label of "premium support") and sent into the private health-insurance market. Some think this system would be better; some think it would be worse. But whichever it is, it would not be Medicare as we have known it for nearly a half century. Traditional Medicare would be essentially ended-not "saved" or "rescued" or "strengthened." Essentially ended. Bully for the Journal for saying so.

By the way, even saying we will cut or essentially end-or do anything else-to Medicare or Medicaid is itself a bit of a euphemism. What we are talking about is cutting health care for the elderly. Cutting medical services for the poor. Reducing aid to special-needs kids. Paying doctors and hospitals less.

We see the same euphemistic dishonesty in the talk of taxes. Democrats don't want to "reform" taxes-at least not in the near term. They want to raise them for the rich. Politicians may dress up this reality with talk of "enhanced revenue" or "broadening the base" or even "lowering the rate." Whatever. We are going to raise taxes. Someone is going to pay more, and that someone is likely to be making more than $250,000 a year.

I expect a deal on the debt. Perhaps not by the Dec. 31 deadline, but almost certainly in early 2013. That deal will likely force rich people to pay more in taxes. It will probably cut spending on health care for seniors, the poor, and people with special needs. It's impossible to know the specifics in advance. But this I can guarantee: the deal will be cloaked in the anodyne-sounding but reality-denying euphemisms of current political discourse.

Just as Orwell predicted. Source :Newsweek

Obama at Sandy Hook Vigil Speech - Newtown Connecticut Element (video/transcript)

THE PRESIDENT: Thank you. (Applause.) Thank you, Governor. To all the families, first responders, to the community of Newtown, clergy, guests -- Scripture tells us: “…do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away…inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.”

We gather here in memory of twenty beautiful children and six remarkable adults. They lost their lives in a school that could have been any school; in a quiet town full of good and decent people that could be any town in America.

Here in Newtown, I come to offer the love and prayers of a nation. I am very mindful that mere words cannot match the depths of your sorrow, nor can they heal your wounded hearts. I can only hope it helps for you to know that you’re not alone in your grief; that our world too has been torn apart; that all across this land of ours, we have wept with you, we’ve pulled our children tight. And you must know that whatever measure of comfort we can provide, we will provide; whatever portion of sadness that we can share with you to ease this heavy load, we will gladly bear it. Newtown -- you are not alone.

As these difficult days have unfolded, you’ve also inspired us with stories of strength and resolve and sacrifice. We know that when danger arrived in the halls of Sandy Hook Elementary, the school’s staff did not flinch, they did not hesitate. Dawn Hochsprung and Mary Sherlach, Vicki Soto, Lauren Rousseau, Rachel Davino and Anne Marie Murphy -- they responded as we all hope we might respond in such terrifying circumstances -- with courage and with love, giving their lives to protect the children in their care.

We know that there were other teachers who barricaded themselves inside classrooms, and kept steady through it all, and reassured their students by saying “wait for the good guys, they’re coming”; “show me your smile.”

And we know that good guys came. The first responders who raced to the scene, helping to guide those in harm’s way to safety, and comfort those in need, holding at bay their own shock and trauma because they had a job to do, and others needed them more.

And then there were the scenes of the schoolchildren, helping one another, holding each other, dutifully following instructions in the way that young children sometimes do; one child even trying to encourage a grown-up by saying, “I know karate. So it’s okay. I’ll lead the way out.” (Laughter.)

As a community, you’ve inspired us, Newtown. In the face of indescribable violence, in the face of unconscionable evil, you’ve looked out for each other, and you’ve cared for one another, and you’ve loved one another. This is how Newtown will be remembered. And with time, and God’s grace, that love will see you through.

But we, as a nation, we are left with some hard questions. Someone once described the joy and anxiety of parenthood as the equivalent of having your heart outside of your body all the time, walking around. With their very first cry, this most precious, vital part of ourselves -- our child -- is suddenly exposed to the world, to possible mishap or malice. And every parent knows there is nothing we will not do to shield our children from harm. And yet, we also know that with that child’s very first step, and each step after that, they are separating from us; that we won’t -- that we can’t always be there for them. They’ll suffer sickness and setbacks and broken hearts and disappointments. And we learn that our most important job is to give them what they need to become self-reliant and capable and resilient, ready to face the world without fear.

And we know we can’t do this by ourselves. It comes as a shock at a certain point where you realize, no matter how much you love these kids, you can’t do it by yourself. That this job of keeping our children safe, and teaching them well, is something we can only do together, with the help of friends and neighbors, the help of a community, and the help of a nation. And in that way, we come to realize that we bear a responsibility for every child because we’re counting on everybody else to help look after ours; that we’re all parents; that they’re all our children.

This is our first task -- caring for our children. It’s our first job. If we don’t get that right, we don’t get anything right. That’s how, as a society, we will be judged.
And by that measure, can we truly say, as a nation, that we are meeting our obligations? Can we honestly say that we’re doing enough to keep our children -- all of them -- safe from harm? Can we claim, as a nation, that we’re all together there, letting them know that they are loved, and teaching them to love in return? Can we say that we’re truly doing enough to give all the children of this country the chance they deserve to live out their lives in happiness and with purpose?

I’ve been reflecting on this the last few days, and if we’re honest with ourselves, the answer is no. We’re not doing enough. And we will have to change.

Since I’ve been President, this is the fourth time we have come together to comfort a grieving community torn apart by a mass shooting. The fourth time we’ve hugged survivors. The fourth time we’ve consoled the families of victims. And in between, there have been an endless series of deadly shootings across the country, almost daily reports of victims, many of them children, in small towns and big cities all across America -- victims whose -- much of the time, their only fault was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

We can’t tolerate this anymore. These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change. We will be told that the causes of such violence are complex, and that is true. No single law -- no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world, or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society.

But that can’t be an excuse for inaction. Surely, we can do better than this. If there is even one step we can take to save another child, or another parent, or another town, from the grief that has visited Tucson, and Aurora, and Oak Creek, and Newtown, and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that -- then surely we have an obligation to try.

In the coming weeks, I will use whatever power this office holds to engage my fellow citizens -- from law enforcement to mental health professionals to parents and educators -- in an effort aimed at preventing more tragedies like this. Because what choice do we have? We can’t accept events like this as routine. Are we really prepared to say that we’re powerless in the face of such carnage, that the politics are too hard? Are we prepared to say that such violence visited on our children year after year after year is somehow the price of our freedom?

All the world’s religions -- so many of them represented here today -- start with a simple question: Why are we here? What gives our life meaning? What gives our acts purpose? We know our time on this Earth is fleeting. We know that we will each have our share of pleasure and pain; that even after we chase after some earthly goal, whether it’s wealth or power or fame, or just simple comfort, we will, in some fashion, fall short of what we had hoped. We know that no matter how good our intentions, we will all stumble sometimes, in some way. We will make mistakes, we will experience hardships. And even when we’re trying to do the right thing, we know that much of our time will be spent groping through the darkness, so often unable to discern God’s heavenly plans.

There’s only one thing we can be sure of, and that is the love that we have -- for our children, for our families, for each other. The warmth of a small child’s embrace -- that is true. The memories we have of them, the joy that they bring, the wonder we see through their eyes, that fierce and boundless love we feel for them, a love that takes us out of ourselves, and binds us to something larger -- we know that’s what matters. We know we’re always doing right when we’re taking care of them, when we’re teaching them well, when we’re showing acts of kindness. We don’t go wrong when we do that.

That’s what we can be sure of. And that’s what you, the people of Newtown, have reminded us. That’s how you’ve inspired us. You remind us what matters. And that’s what should drive us forward in everything we do, for as long as God sees fit to keep us on this Earth.

“Let the little children come to me,” Jesus said, “and do not hinder them -- for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”

Charlotte.    Daniel.   Olivia.    Josephine.   Ana.   Dylan.   Madeleine.   Catherine.   Chase. Jesse.   James.    Grace.    Emilie.    Jack.   Noah.    Caroline.   Jessica.    Benjamin.    Avielle.   Allison. 

God has called them all home. For those of us who remain, let us find the strength to carry on, and make our country worthy of their memory.

May God bless and keep those we’ve lost in His heavenly place. May He grace those we still have with His holy comfort. And may He bless and watch over this community, and the United States of America. (Applause.)