I was a week past seven when my mother frantically showed up at my elementary school, my little sister balanced clumsily on her hip, to tell me she was taking me home where it was safe. Safe, I wondered. Why were we unsafe? She explained that the United States was being attacked. Attacked, I thought. Why? Because as a young girl, I thought hugs not drugs! I did not know that hate could manifest as a verb. Still, young as I was, I was entranced by the coverage of the events, for I knew what I saw was not a Hollywood movie. I sat mesmerized as the towers fell and as terrified workers plunged to their deaths. as firefighters valiantly rescued those who could be saved and as people on the street sobbed for those who couldn’t be. I will forever be changed by the horror of that day, and may we never forget the bravery, the sacrifice, the lives we lost, and the ones they left behind.  

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