My youngest son and I walked hand in hand down the street to his elementary school. It was a beautiful September morning and I was savoring the feel of his tiny hand in mine. I knew a day would come when walking to school while holding my hand would be unacceptable, but today was not that day. We live half a block from his school and I can see the front entrance from my porch, but still the world seems too big and he seemed too small to walk that few steps without me. When we got to the corner I gave him a kiss and he carefully crossed the street with a back pack that seemed to swallow his small frame. When he was safely inside the school, I turned around and headed to the house. I turned on the stove, popped a pan on the burner and waited for it to heat. In the den the T.V. was announcing the days headlines. I popped my head in the doorway to see what was going on in the world around me. The station was on a "live location" with the sight of a burning high rise being filmed from a helicopter. From the skyline I could tell it was in New York. The news reporters were narrating or trying to narrate on a scene that they really had no information about. They were batting theories back and forth, trying to buy time until a producer could feed them more information in their ear buds. I stood there trying to grasp what was going on and was somewhat amused at the reporters like I always am when they are having to report on the fly. Suddenly, a plane came into view on the screen and right before my eyes it turned and flew right into the high rise as if on purpose. The building swallowed up the plane as smoke and flames burst toward the sky. My amusement quickly left me as I listened to the stunned reporters attempt to describe the surreal image. It seemed as time just froze as I stood there stunned. The rest of the day was a hazy scary fog. I don't remember getting ready for work, but I remember the day seemed eerily quiet. I was the office manager for a busy doctor. When I walked through the doors of the office, I always felt like I was strapping myself into a roller coaster ride that would last 8 hours. But that was on a normal day. Today the phones did not ring, people did not show up for their appointments and the drug reps that came in had the same dazed look on their faces as I knew was on mine. When I got home from work the television was immediately turned on. The only relief I had was knowing all of my family was safe and sound. We watched for hours as the terror unfolded before our very eyes, the images unbelievable, the destruction looked like something from a horror film. I remember my husband turning to our family and saying... "Today the world has been changed forever"..... How right he was. Weeks later I bought a sticker for my car that said "Never Forget 9/11"..... In the days and weeks that followed that tragedy, the nation united together and turned to the only source they knew could offer comfort, God. There were public displays of faith, public forums of prayer as our nation reached out for a power greater than weapons and bombs could offer. It was a refreshing difference than the way our nation was on 9/10. In the heat of the battle, even a nation that had turned it's back on God, knew he was the only source of security on which they could depend. Although the act in itself was tragic, seeing a nation on it's knees was a beautiful, humbling sight. Unfortunately the images quickly faded and the hearts that had began to soften returned to their hardened state. It makes me wonder what the next tragedy will be that will once again bring us to where we truly belong..... To the foot of the cross.