For years, those numbers simply meant a call for help. Now they also remind us of September 11, 2001, the date of the worst terrorist attack on the United States of America and one of the deadliest days ever on American soil.
While I watched my beautiful city covered in smoke and cinders, I looked around at the rescue workers, I couldn’t help but agree with others who remember the day.
The hands of God became real.
- God was one of my friends who searched high and low for others loved one.
- God was the doctors and nurses who waited to use their gifts to heal others
- God was the firefighter who rushed into burning building to save people.
- God was in people like myself who gave blood immediately.
That’s how much God loves us. I saw this love expressed in the great charity shared by many. It was a time of great pain and great love. It was a time of testing and a time of faith. It was a time of endings and beginnings. I remember that there were far too many children left fatherless and motherless.
Yet, I remember the moments of silence in my city . The whole city became a place of prayer. Neighbors looked out for each other. Churches, temples and synagogues filled with the prayers of petitions. Our nation turned to God in prayer and in faith with a new intensity.
It has been said many times that September 11 changed the world. It demands that we do some things. We must continue to pray for the victims and their families. In our work and communities, we should live our values of mutual respect, human dignity and respect for life. We should seek security without embracing discrimination. We should use our voices to protect human life, to seek greater justice, and to pursue peace as participants in a powerful democracy.
Above all, we need to be the hands of God every day.