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September 1, 2018, 12:00 AM

My Two Cents


 

Two memories about those first few days after 9/11 linger for me now seventeen years after the attacks.

The first was how the ordinary was pumped full of pure, crystalline miracle. Everything we had previously taken for granted sparkled like a harvest moon. The kids at soccer practice looked like they were dancing before the Lord. Next door neighbors who showed up at the front door were greeted like family we hadn’t seen in ages. Voices that compose the soundtrack of our lives fell on the ear like favorite songs. Sometimes the only thing that kept us from falling to the ground in grief was the hug from a friend. Life suddenly made fragile, became life, beautiful.

The other memory I savor from the days following the attacks is the way it felt to be an American. For the first time in my memory our country was the collective recipient of charity and good will from people around the world. We were no longer the greatest nation on the face of the earth or the big, bad, bully. We were people who needed other people’s help to make it through. A small measure of comfort from the pain of our loss came from the assurances we received from other countries who reached out to us. We were all in this thing together.

We’ve heard a lot lately about American Exceptionalism. But I’m still not sure why it is important to tell ourselves we are the greatest nation in the world. Isn’t it enough to say we are a great nation among other great nations, so often with much to give- occasionally in need of others’ help? Don’t we remember from when we were kids what happened to ABSOLUTLEY EVERYONE who proudly     proclaimed themselves to be King of the Hill. It was only a matter of time.

Let’s hope and pray that we never again need the kind of help we needed seventeen years ago. And if we’re stuck for what we should do to find miracle in the ordinary again, here are two ideas. First, do something for someone you love, but don’t let them know. Second, drive over to Friendship Park by the airport and watch plane after plane after plane gracefully glide to the ground the same way those four planes should have seventeen years ago. Say a prayer for those you love. Say a prayer for those who still grieve.

Shalom,

Rick

 

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