Thousands of papers exploded from the World Trade Center, along with the souls of the hundreds who died that day — the flames from the burning towers lifting those gallant spirits higher and higher for a last look at their loved ones before ascending to their heavenly reward.
The winds carried the papers over the Hudson River. A few made it all the way to Marine Park where residents, myself included, have been devastated by the massacre.
The parchment, black around the edges, found its final resting place next to a rose bush. It was blank to the naked eye but not to God’s eye. And when God saw the diversity of the names on that piece of paper, I’m sure he dropped to his knees and wept.
Our eyes have been blackened and our lips and hearts have been left bleeding by 9-11. America is on bended knee and I’m sure that we will stay down and bleed for a while as we continue to weep a Mississippi River of tears for all the heroes we lost.
But we are going to rise like the Rocky Mountains, stronger and more tolerant of our differences than we were before. We have seen the hell prejudice hath sent and we will embrace it no more.
