Every year on September 11, I try to spend some time quietly remembering that day. The principal came over the intercom first period telling us that counselors would be on hand to help any students who were worried about parents or family members who may be involved with the tragedies going on back east. Being high school students, we all chalked it up to being no big deal. And then I walked into the classroom where I served as a teacher assistant. There I saw my teacher, a woman I loved and admired, with tears streaming down her face looking up at the television in horror.
Knowing this year would be the 10th anniversary of the tragedy, I yearned inside for some way to meaningfully observe it. I wasn't sure what I wanted. I knew it involved coming together with other Americans. I knew it involved remembering the people who were lost on what had started out as a beautiful and ordinary day. It involved remembering those who had acted so courageously so that less horror would be inflicted, and in many cases were lost that day as well. I knew it involved reflecting on the beauty that was revealed in the face of so much terror. I knew that it involved love of God and country and beautiful music. And I am thankful to Sandy City for providing the perfect platform this morning.
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1 comment:
What a neat idea!! I can't believe it's been 10 years. I, too, remember that day quite well.
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