Sunday, September 11, 2011

Ten years ago...

... my husband woke me to kiss me goodbye, and mentioned that a plane had just hit the World Trade Towers in New York. I immediately thought Cessna and got up to make coffee. As we said our morning prayers at the back door, the second plane hit. When I turned on the radio five minutes later, it became clear that the planes were not Cessnas and I wondered what kind of world our children would inherit.

We walked my daughter to school, then I took my two kindergarteners (I looked after a friend's son at the time) and toddler to the local IGA for a few groceries. As we walked in the door, I saw people standing stock still in the aisles, listening to radio news blaring from the PA system, announcing that the first tower had just fallen. A thousand questions from the kindergarteners. We walked home with our groceries, I set the kids up with a game, and went to the basement to turn on the TV...

Two days later as I was reading a library book to my youngest about "what love is," I burst into tears. Julia went to get me some tissues, too little to understand why Mommy was crying.

Ten years and two wars later, what can we do but work for the equality that doesn't breed terrorism and pray for peace? I still love St. Francis' prayer the best:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

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