Seven Years Later

The flags flew at half-staff. Otherwise, the day was just another Thursday. Seven years ago, September 11 was just another beautiful fall Tuesday. A friend asked me, “Where was I when we heard?” Actually, I told him, you were standing almost where you’re standing now. My desk was on the other side of the room, we had a TV on a file cabinet in the corner. The phone rang and a friend at home with her new baby said, “Turn on the TV! A plane just hit the World Trade Center!” So we sat in the school office and watched the second plane hit the second tower. An hour later, American Airlines flight 77 hit the Pentagon and first wave of parents hit the front door of the school to take their children home.

We turned off the TV in the office. We depended on internet news to keep us informed of the events in New York City, Washington and then in a small Pennsylvania town. There were urgent conversations with teachers as normalcy turned to anxiety. “What’s happening now?,” we asked each other. Teachers kept the kids occupied but it became more and more difficult to dodge questions from students who watched their classmates leave for home. “Why is everyone leaving?”

For hours we didn’t know where the husband of a staff member was. Turns out he had been in the central courtyard of the Pentagon when the jet broke the outer walls of the building. He was unhurt, his wife sobbed with relief when he finally got a phone call through to her.

Planes stopped flying all over the country. Airports closed. Travelers would eventually rent cars to drive home from their business trips.

Parents picked up their own children and offered to take the children of their neighbors. The overwhelming sense was that people just wanted to hug their families. Some folks were headed home to watch the continuous television coverage. Others had packed the car and were heading out of the DC metro area. “We’re going west,” said one mom, “maybe to Ohio.” I got a call from the church… a service would be held at 7.

By the end of the school day, about half of our 700 students had been checked out early. We closed the office and staggered home to watch the news, to see what we’d been hearing about all day.

By 6:30, I’d seen enough. I headed up to church where I sat with people who had gathered to look at the day’s events through the lens of faith. The priest passed around a microphone and people shared their stories. The flight attendant who had switched shifts and was not on Flight 77. The father whose best friend had been in a World Trade Center office that morning. The mom whose firefighter son was going to be at the Pentagon for days, working the site of one tragedy while grieving the firefighters who died in New York.

We prayed. We sang. We sang America the Beautiful… every verse. But we cried when we sang:

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!

I still cry when we sing that verse.

In the days that followed, the skies stayed quiet except for the military jets patrolling the nation’s capital area. Children missed school because their mothers could not stand with them at the bus stop without being cursed for wearing the hijab. People returned from their westward evacuations. And everywhere, the American flag flew as a symbol of solidarity in the face of attack.

So here we are, seven years later on September 11. My husband was not stranded in New Mexico, I picked him up at the airport where the giant flag flew at half-staff.

We need to remember. We need to be proud Americans who stand for compassion and social justice, not just military power and missions "accomplished." Yes, we need to be aware of safety and security, but the lesson I hope we remember most often is the need for reaching out to each other. Let’s reach out even further as we remember to love each other as God loves all of us.

Grammy X 2

Hannah's a big sister! Baby Leah was born in the wee hours of Sept. 2. As you can see from the photo, Hannah's a little confused about just what this person wants in the world. I would guess that Leah actually feels the same way! I'm looking forward to a weekend visit and my introduction to the newest member of our clan.

An Elementary School Quote

Today was the open house at the local elementary school. As I told the new parents, having the kids back in the school gives us purpose.

A couple of my favorite kiddos stopped by my desk after they visited their teachers. One was dressed in girlie pink and the other was outfitted in a gold sequin vest. They were anxious to share highlights of the time we've spent apart. Clearly, they had a great summer.

My favorite quote of the day came from my sequined friend, "I've got a Hannah Montana wig, and I know how to wear it!"

Oh, yes, I've missed those young people!

Quotes

I was browsing through the web ring for MDG blogging day and found this quote:

A Place For Divine Love

Show me your hands.
Do they have scars from giving?

Show me your feet.
Are they wounded in service?

Show me your heart.
Have you left a place for divine love?

—Fulton Sheen (1885-1979)

It was good for me to contemplate this message. I've been wrapped up in the Olympics, school opening tasks at work and the Democratic National Convention. I have not been spending enough time leaving a place for divine love! I need to find that quiet space in my mind and heart.

Here's another Fulton Sheen quote for pondering...

“Leisure is a form of silence, not noiselessness. It is the silence of contemplation such as occurs when we let our minds rest on a rosebud, a child at play, a Divine mystery, or a waterfall.”

I haven't thought about silence not being noiseless. That idea might just help with my meditation efforts!

For a Great Laugh...

Al and Matt are great sports. Thank you, Today Show!

Approaching God

This past Sunday I took my turn as chalice bearer at the church. I stood next to the priest during the eucharistic prayer and, after receiving the bread and wine myself, carried the cup of wine to the altar rail. I followed the priest around the arc of my church family, offering the chalice to each one saying, "the blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

As I passed from person to person, I began to notice the variety of ways each one participated in the ritual of the sacrament. Some stood and some knelt. The bread was placed in open palms, raised to accept the body of Christ. Some brought their open palms to their mouths to eat the bread while others lifted the bread from one hand with the other and some held the bread, waiting for the cup I carried. As I offered the cup, some dipped the bread into the wine (intinction), some guided the chalice to their lips and drank deeply or with a sip. Some made eye contact with me, some gazed into the chalice.

We come with reverence to receive communion. And we approach God as the individuals that God created us to be. We accept the gift of Christ's body and blood and we offer our God-given gifts back to God... "all things come of Thee, o Lord; and of Thine own have we given Thee."

I am thankful that God loves me, individually, with all my quirks and failings and all my gifts.
Amen and amen.

A New Blog Link

Yes, we set up a great blog for the Dominican Republic Mission Trip. Then, when the Iowa team headed out, I was thinking it would be good to rename the DR blog to a blog we could use for all of the St. Anne's short term mission trips. After realizing that the email address would be significantly different from the blog title, I've started a completely new blog - St. Anne's On the Road. Hopefully, there will be many authors, loads of photos and an all-around view of what it's like to take St. Anne's out on the road!