The day was Tuesday, September 11, 2001. I didn't want to get out of bed, but I did. However, true to my nature, I fooled around for a long while, and eventually got around to listening to the TV with half an ear, not paying enough attention to see what was going on. My mom was talking with my grandmother on the phone, but I wasn't listening to that either. I was mostly paying attention to my baby sister, who I adore. Then Mom got off the phone with Momom, and called someone else--I think it was my dad. I was listening by this time. She mentions my uncle in the conversation, so I really pay attention. Then I happen to glance at the TV. I didn't gather it at first, but I knew something awful had happened. Mom tells me, once she gets off the phone, that terrorists had hijacked two Boeing 757 planes and crashed into the two World Trade Center towers in New York, very close to my uncle, aunt, and cousin. They were all okay, but a lot of people were not. That early rough estimate--10,000
people--shocked me. I was stunned into silence, only being able to pray the Hail Mary over and over in my heart. This was unthinkable, to me. Terrorism happened in little Middle Eastern countries, comfortably far away from myself and my loved ones. America was safe from such attacks, I was sure.

I was also wrong.

Slowly the shock gave way to grief. Awful grief, such as I had never felt, even when faced with life-threatening illnesses or death in the family. This was a different grief, one that can't be explained but was felt, I'm sure, by everyone in the country. Tears stung my eyes all day, as I talked to my friend about it, as I did my math with her, after she left. I could hardly say the prayers of the Rosary without crying. This tragedy affected me in a way I never thought was possible, not when no one I knew was hurt.

This tragedy has affected the entire nation. Terrorism was not a real threat in our great country until now. Americans never thought about it, not as an immediate threat to us, to our friends and family. Now things have changed, America has changed, and we have changed. As much as this travesty has horrified us, grieved us and angered us, it has also united us. I feel a warmth in my heart when I see the long lines to donate blood, hear of the large amounts of money being donated to the victims, and when I hear of the rescue workers, toiling day and night with the hope of finding a survivor. The American spirit will not be broken by terrorists. We are stronger than that. We are America, and we will prevail. God bless.

age group: 13-16