It's a day that is sketched into my memory. A day that changed America. I was only 7 years old that day, I remember it well, though I didn't understand the tragedy as well as I do now. We had just woke up when mom and dad found out about the terrorist attacks. We all went downstairs with plates filled with pancakes and dripping syrup. We watched the news, the towers and pentagon burning. The people jumping from windows...mom turned the channel. We watched in silence. We flipped through channels. We ate our pancakes. The door bell rang, my heart pounded wildly. We were living on an air force base at the time, which instead of reassuring it frightened me. Dad went upstairs. The ups man. We continued watching tv. That's all I remember. People screaming, jumping, watching in horror. The towers collapsing and the debris and dust engulfing the city. Then the news that followed days later of survivors, of heroes, of war. I'm glad I have memories of that day, of America on that day. I pray for America's future, that we may continue to be a resilient nation. One Nation under God. September 11 2011, marked the 10th year. Somehow it seems like not that long ago since the sticky fingers and fearful heart. I flew on the 10th anniversary. I flew across the entire Nation. I was safe, I was proud. On our descent a mother sang to her 10 month old baby girl, "God bless America, My home sweet home." The city lights and the huge moon, the baby with no memories of that day. The mother singing softly into her ears. I knew she would learn, learn of America's history, the tragic day in 2001, and be a proud little american girl. God bless America.
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