I got up and as usual went to the kitchen to get some water. I flipped on the radio to get a weather forecast and someone was shouting that he just saw a plane go into the World Trade Center.  The reporter said it was probably a small plane gone awry but the man insisted it was a commercial one and looked like it was aiming for the tower.

I screamed to wake my friend who had crashed on my couch the night before to not have to travel home in the rainstorm we’d had. Then I turned on the TV in time to see the second plane hit its target. I was terrified and couldn’t stop crying for the people on the planes an in the towers. When the plane hit the pentagon my friend had to calm me down. My country was being attacked and innocent people were dying. I wondered if there would be more attacks.

Over the next few days I was haunted by seeing smoke rising from the towers as I sat by the window where I write and hearing fighter planes and helicopters flying overhead, day and night as a constant reminder that my city had been attacked. It was a scary time that I got through by keeping my faith strong and counting my blessings. I was alive and well! I was grateful that my family was safe and that a woman I knew who worked on he 87th floor miraculously got out. I was also grateful that my friend had crashed on my couch. He’d never done that before and it would have been much harder had I been alone.

I pray that the people who lost loved ones eventually find peace. And I pray for the souls of all the people who died in such a horrific way that they can rest in peace, knowing how much love is being sent to them. Please join me! Post your prayer in the comment section.