Towers and small huts

Today is the tenth anniversary of 9/11, the day that changed the world. As we look back at the ten years that have passed since this day ( if we are old enough), we find that we have come a long way, the world has come a long way. My 9-year old son asked me yesterday, "Mom, what happened on 9/11?" and I realized that I had always assumed he knew, even though he had not been born when it happened. Then I wondered how to explain the happenings of that day. I told him what I could and hoped he would understand. I also realized that everyone will look back and remember 9/11 through the lens of their own personal experience. Most Americans remember it as the day they realized that they were not as safe as they thought they were. Immigrants like myself were shocked and scared for different reasons. Our children will view this experience through a different lens entirely. Whatever we think and remember, it is important to realize that all life is sacred and when planes crash, or rain bombs, it strikes terror in hearts, in all people rich and poor, those with skyscrapers, those with none, those with hundreds of firefighters, those with none, those with the ability to tell the story and those with none. Our fear, our pain is indeed recorded and accounted for by Allah, even if it is not acknowledged on national television.

Let us try to remember and record everyone's pain, not just our own, for true humanity requires that we consider everyone of equal value. If we wish to grieve, let it be for everyone, on every side and for those caught in the middle, without a voice, without a memorial, just the rubble of their small lives.