The Eleventh

For my generation, September 11th is something that we grew up with.

I was nine years old on September 11th, 2001, and I don't remember life "before" it. I was just on the cusp of understanding when it happened. I remember teachers letting out a tear or two, but my parents didn't get me out of school early like others did. My dad picked my sister and me up earlier than usual from after school care and asked us if we knew what Pearl Harbor was. I remember eagerly answering that I did, since we had been learning about WWII in history class. When we got home my mom was sitting hunched over, head in hands, watching the news in her arm chair . I vaguely remember seeing a burning building on the screen, though my parents didn't let me watch most of it. I remember being sad, but not completely understanding why.

With everything awful going on in the world today, it's nice to take a second to remember the good things. Neighbors. Moms and dads and sisters. A sweet puppy to greet you at the door. The sun and the sky. A place to call home.

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