Lauren Rousseau was teaching at Sandy Hook on Friday when she was killed. She'd also been a substitute at the Hawley School, which three of Jacobs' children attend.

Two of his children opted to stay home from Monday's services. "We're kind of taking it individually with each kid.

"As you can imagine, there's a lot of tears."

And hugs.

Chaplains Ray and Suzanne Thompson came up from New York City, where they had been helping people struggling with the aftermath of Superstorm Sandy. The Thompsons are members of the Billy Graham Rapid Response Team and have helped at other mass shootings, including the attempted killing of Rep. Gabby Giffords near Tucson, Arizona.

They stopped in the deli for a quick bite to eat before hitting the pavement.

"The whole town is just heartbroken," said Suzanne Thompson, a retired nurse from Southern California. "As you walk the streets, people are crying and hurt and sometimes they might feel alone. And it's nice to have someone come up alongside you and cry with you and hear your story and pray with you."

The most chilling stories, she said, are from parents and teachers who were at the Sandy Hook school last Friday.

"What stands out in my mind," she said, "is just the impact that it's had on them and what they remember: the noises and the sounds and the smells. Those things are going to be burned in their minds."

The husband-and-wife team look for signs of distress. They talk with residents about the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder -- inability to sleep, flashbacks, loss of appetite, potential suicidal tendencies. They refer some to counseling and follow up with people to see how they're coping.

At the deli, one resident looked at the woman behind the counter as he paid for his food. "My kids are having trouble sleeping at night," he told her.

She handed him three lollipops.

A few blocks down Main Street, inside the town library, the sniffling voice of a grieving man could be heard coming from the stacks. "It's just ... God!" he screeched.

Downstairs, in the children's section, Alana Bennison wept behind her desk. She's been the children's librarian for 15 years. She knew nearly every child killed.

She's surrounded by thousands of books. But no amount of words, no amount of reading material, could prepare a town for such horror.

"They start here before they start school," she said, crying. "Their families have been bringing them in here, most of them since they were little, to get books."

They had recently finished a gingerbread workshop.

She has fielded hundreds of calls and e-mails from around the country, people wanting to help Newtown. She's not sure what to make of it all -- she's both touched and overwhelmed. It's only been three days.

"It's not just about this week; it's not just about the next few weeks. It's about going forward. We have a long road here, a very long road," she said.

"It will never be normal, but we need to start getting back into routines. They need to start going back to their schools, they need to start going back to the Cub Scouts and the dance lessons and karate and all the things that make up their lives."

School starts up again Tuesday for all Newtown students, except those at Sandy Hook.

In a nearby reading area, a collie named Gracie sat as five youngsters gathered around. One read to her. The therapy dog was brought in, Bennison said, "because everybody needs a little animal love."

Gracie is 7 years old, the age of four of the children killed at the school.

When one of the boys learned of the dog's age, he jumped up and down with excitement. "My sister is 7 years old," he squealed.

A glimpse into normalcy -- for just a brief moment -- in a town where innocence has been stolen.