I was at the park for my morning walk. After Aaron left for work at 6:30, I used to walk from our little house on 11th Street to Berg Park every day, and then walk around the riverwalk. Joseph either slept (or didn't) in the stroller. They had a great little playground just right for littlies, and Joseph was playing on it as I watched him, taking my break as I leaned against the jogging stroller.
I was perplexed as I looked around at the people, the usual crowd, but all of them engaging in extremely odd behavior. Two women were hugging. There was a man with a radio, hunched over it as if protecting it. There were groups of people standing around, talking with each other instead of walking briskly along the path for their morning exercise.
Finally I saw someone I actually knew by name--not just by sight as the morning park crowd. It was my next door neighbor, Brenda. She asked me what I thought about what had happened. I told her I didn't know what had happened, and what HAD happened?
And she told me.
I didn't believe her. It was a little too hard to grasp. But I loaded Joseph up in the stroller as fast as I could, and walked home and turned on the television. It was a giant shock, but it was all real.
And then I fell to the floor and prayed. I prayed for the families. I prayed for the rescuers and all the heroes. I prayed for safety, but mostly for peace. Praying was all I could do. That and cry. As I prayed, I felt as if I were part of a giant army of people, all praying with all their might. I felt suddenly connected to millions, and I knew we were all pleading with the same God for the same thing.
Peace.
This day, I pray for the same thing. Peace on earth. Is it such an unattainable concept? I think not, but perhaps not to come right away. And this day, I hope you think with me of the blessings in our lives, and remember the true source of all peace.
I was living in Japan, at a dinner party. Somebody's boyfriend who lived in New York called, so we turned on the TV in time to see the second tower get hit. The commentators were speaking Japanese, so we had no idea what was going on. It wasn't until we found some obscure channel with English subtitles that things started to sink in.
ReplyDeleteTen years later, still hoping for peace.
I was lying in bed, when my mom came in to tell me she was leaving. As she left, she mentioned that planes had hit the World Trade Center...just like that, life became "pre-9/11 and post-9/11."
ReplyDeleteI was at work in the middle of morning report when a respiratory therapist walked up and said that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I thought, 'Who cares if some little plane clipped the World Trade Center? Let's finish report!' But then we turned on the tv and saw the footage. The whole day every patient was watching it. It was the only thing on tv. I would go into a patients room and do what I needed to do and then stand there for another ten minutes watching the footage. It was absolutely surreal.
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