September 11th used to be just another date on the calendar.
I still remember exactly how I felt as that day unfolded eleven years ago, wanting to hold my family close, wondering if the world was coming apart. It was a shared tragedy, manifested in the gatherings of total strangers to watch, converse, and pray.
Being at the memorial just two weeks ago was moving….reading the names of those who died, hearing stories of that day, seeing pictures of unbelievable devastation.
Sadness comes, awash in scenes of boots left behind by first responders who never returned, in gazing at a World Trade Center employee’s wallet found buried in the rubble.
While the suffering of those who lost loved ones that day cannot be fathomed, sadness was not the strongest feeling I had as I walked away from the memorial.
No, that emotion was hope. In the sound of construction, in the faces of the workers, in the gently blowing leaves of the survivor tree….I felt hope.