Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Tuesday, September 11th

It was another gorgeous late summer morning in Norwalk, Connecticut. My children and I had our breakfast and made our way downstairs to our homeschool room. Kristiana was 7, and Daniel was 4. Homeschooling back then consisted mainly of reading books aloud, doing addition and subtraction problems on the white board, a few phrases in Spanish here and there, and lots of arts and crafts activities. Fun was had by all. I adored my children, and they were, of course, the cutest and smartest children in all of Connecticut.

The phone rang.

I told the kids to wait in the homeschool room, that I'd be right back.

It was Diane.

She said, "I know you're homeschooling your kids, but you need to turn on the television."

"Okay." I was annoyed. If you knew I was home schooling... whatever.

I turned on the television just in time to see the second plane hit the second tower.

I fell to my knees and burst into wailing sobs.

The children ran out of the homeschool room, threw themselves at me, and asked what was wrong.

I told them that there had been a plane crash.

I wiped my eyes and blew my nose.

I turned off the television.

I said, "We'd better get back to our schoolwork."

My heart was broken wide open. So was our world.

Today, eleven years later, I continue to pray for healing and for peace for my broken heart and the whole, wide, aching, wounded, hungry, grief-stricken world.


On the morning of September 11th, 2001 and for many weeks thereafter, I regularly recalled the many times that people told me I was wasting my time in protecting my children from "the real world" by homeschooling them. If ever there was a time to protect them from the horrors, the evil, the sorrows of "the real world," that was the time to do it.

I waited six months before I told Kristiana that "the plane crash" I had seen on the news that morning had been intentional and that it had taken place in New York City. Years past before Daniel understood the enormity of that moment on that spectacular and horrible morning.

Actually, I'm not sure any of us truly understand the enormity of those horrifying events.

Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

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