How do you talk to children about terrorism?

The television news doesn’t go on until they’re in bed, when their imagination is buzzing with comical scenes from David Walliams’ Gangsta Granny, rather than bombings and bloodshed from the small screen. While other youngsters have been upset by the attacks in France, my two remain blissfully ignorant.

Have I failed as a parent with my cotton-wool approach? Quite possibly, but I may still find a way to broach the subject. I don’t believe their primary school has touched upon the senseless killings either, but then my children struggle to remember much about their day by the time I collect them so they could’ve simply forgotten to tell me. Their daily news reaches me like water from a dripping tap throughout our evenings, or like a tidal wave under duress when I demand, in exasperation, three snippets of information from both of them before the television goes on.

I do usually try to talk to my children about what’s going on in the news. My eldest son, now eight, was fascinated by coverage of the discovery of Richard III’s remains and the ensuing debate about where they should be buried. He knows from unavoidable Press headlines that people have died in York’s rivers which has triggered discussions about the perils of venturing into water. We also talked about the April earthquake in Nepal, safe in the knowledge that such natural disasters rarely come our way, and added our contribution to his school’s collection of emergencies supplies to aid the relief effort.

Certain stories obviously appeal to them more than others. Both my sons were particularly interested in a story in The Press of a youngster who was injured when he fell off his scooter. At the time they loved racing round on theirs so they took note. He usually wore a helmet, I told them gravely. But that day he didn’t and hit a wall. I hastened to add that the boy recovered, but the message from that story has been useful whenever they’ve kicked up a fuss about wearing their own helmets. Maybe it was the way I told it, but my youngest, who was four at the time, kept asking me to tell him the story again, like it was some kind of dark fairytale. The reality of the boy’s injuries had obviously passed him by.

I’d be lying to say children don’t enjoy a bit of drama, but the comic-book hint at horror they like is far removed from the scenes witnessed in the French capital last Friday.

Terrorism is not a topic we’ve ever discussed. How do you simplify the horror, fear and human devastation that befell so many people whose only guilt was of being alive? But while we try to shield our children, we can’t always hide our reaction to the news; they pick up on our tone of voice or facial expressions, and they worry if we are upset.

Social media has its uses and I happily stumbled across advice via Twitter from a senior bereavement counsellor at Winston’s Wish, Britain’s leading charity for bereaved children, on talking to children about terrorist attacks.

She talked about the importance of using clear language about death, rather than confusing phrases like “they went to sleep”, which could make young children fear going to sleep. There was age-specific advice for pre-schoolers (keep it simple and brief, without in-depth detail or explanations), while she said we should talk to primary school-age children about a bad action or behaviour when referring to the perpetrators, so they don’t fear that ‘bad people’ are coming to get them.

Secondary school children may have seen powerful images on social media and read things that may be incorrect. Winston’s Wish advises parents to talk to them about what they’ve seen. If they haven’t spoken to someone they trust, they may build these up into something so big it’s unmanageable for them.

But what stood out the most for me was the message that children of all ages need to feel they are safe, while the strongest sentiment to spread is that the majority of the world wants peace.

Fred Rogers, the late American television host and educator, struck a chord years ago with his words which still resonate today. He said: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me: “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

And there have been countless people visible on the streets of Paris, in the ambulances and hospitals, doing their utmost to look after others and make them safe. They are the figures I’d like my children to think more about, if and when we ever talk about terrorism.