10 years.

That day, I was on the opposite side of the country, obliviously sitting in a fifth grade classroom just barely noticing all the whispers around me,  “Do you know what happened?” and “Did you hear about it?” When I did hear about it from a peer of mine, I remembered being shocked, but shrugging it off because buildings explode all the times in movies. Plus, I didn’t even know what the twin towers were. It was only when my teacher Ms. Tietz, in verge of tears, started explaining the tragedy to us, that it finally clicked in my head: Oh my God, there were people in the buildings. Oh God, and on the planes too. Upon those realizations, my heart shattered.
As fifth graders, I don’t think any of our initial reactions were of anger or of fear. It was sorrow that voluminously weighed our hearts. Our classroom grieved for the innocents on the other side of the coast. Numerous footage of the planes crashing the towers were shown, each time in a different angle, on our classroom TV. Every time, it became more real to us. We saw people jumping out of buildings, people running away from the smoke, and we heard the screams. God, the screams terrified us as we sat in our classroom with our focus completely on the TV.
No longer able to hold it in, Ms. Tietz suddenly started sobbing. It was then that she revealed to the class that her father works blocks away from the towers and that her family hasn’t been able to get a hold him. We all prayed as hard as we can for her father as she kept dialing her phone in hopes of reaching him, but her call wouldn’t go through. As we soon learned from the news, too many calls were being made at that time from people that were also trying to reach their loved ones which caused the phone lines to be too busy. Some of the calls were finally able to get through and the callers were able to get a hold of who they were trying to call. Some of the people called back and reassured the other end of the line that they were okay. Some people didn’t - and never will - get a call back. Ms. Tietz’s father did. He missed the train that morning so he didn’t go to work that day.

I wasn’t “personally” affected by the 9/11 tragedy. I didn’t lose anyone I know. Actually, I don’t even personally know anyone that did lose a loved one. But lives of precious beings were lost that day and their loved ones - fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and friends - have to suffer the devastation of their loss. And my fifth grade heart went out to them. Every year since then, I always reflect upon that day and commemorate all those affected. When I was a senior in high school, I remember being shocked when I learned that my high school didn’t have a memorial plan for 9/11 that day. Being in student government, I was able to get permission from the Activities Director to organize something. Through the intercom, I made a small speech and my friend Corinne sang the national anthem. I ditched class that day to plan a tribute where students can come to a classroom during lunchtime to observe 9/11 and to watch a slideshow made by a teacher, a veteran. When something of this magnitude strikes, there really isn’t much we can do. Some turn to anger and look for revenge, but leave that to God. We partake in justice by doing these simple acts of commemoration.

Now, I’m a junior in college. It’s been ten years since I heard my teacher cried in front of her class. It’s been ten years since our classroom jointly prayed for all those people we saw on TV. After all these years, I may understand the situation a little better, but I am still that confused fifth grader who didn’t understand why anybody would destroy lives of strangers. But today, its not about asking those questions. Today, I ask that we all remember the innocents that were lost and the heroes that selflessly sacrificed their own lives. Take one day out of your entire year and pray for those that are still carrying the unfathomable grief that they’ve been carrying everyday for the past decade. God bless America.