September 11, 2001 I was teaching second grade for the first time. The kids were so little. ( I am sure you remember where you were too.)
The school was so well run, it was hours before I would know exactly what horrors had transpired so close to us.
I work in a school, that is part of a community where parents who are police, and firefighters are the norm. Not to mention our teachers – married to FDNY and NYPD.
Our community is so close to Manhattan, most of our working parents worked down town, or mid town like my husband.
As I watched the students leave, one by one, I was struck with the reality that this day they lost their innocence. That no child would ever again grow up as carefree as I once was.
As the names came out, and the stories unfolded we all knew someone – some a lot closer than others.
Lives changed forever. Still changing.
Street signs commemorating victims. Memorials, tributes.
Cancer. Asthma. Chronic illness. PTSD.
Everyone remembers, to some extent. But here, in New York the pain is palpable.
This morning we prayed that those suffering heartache would be able to take solace in the smiles and laughter of the youth surrounding them. We have not forgotten.
9/11 brings with it the promise of 9/12,
To all those with painful hearts- You are loved and remembered.