But deliver us from evil ...

We are all remembering today, where we were 5 years ago when we first heard the news. I was at home, folding laundry, while my 7 month old son played on the floor next to me. My husband called from work and told me to turn on the TV. "A plane has crashed into the World Trade Center." In the next minute, a second plane had crashed. The reality had just started to hit me, the tears had just started to flow, when I watched in breathless shock as the first tower began to collapse.

This weekend, we visited a memorial set up by the Kiwanis Club of Marietta, at the Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park. On the wide open space of the battlefield, they flew approximately 3000 American flags, one to represent each soul lost on 9/11. On the way to the memorial, I decided to tell my oldest son a little about the tragedy, to the extent that I thought he could understand at the age of 5.

The sight of the flags was beautiful. But standing in the middle of the flags, it was much deeper than just a sight to behold ... it was remembering, honoring, and realizing. The field was silent and still at first, until a slight breeze came through, almost like a spirit amongst the flags, and the rippling fabric sounded like whispers.

My son surprised us with his reaction. We could see his emotions stirring in confusion. Sadness crossed his face and he started walking back out of the field. My husband followed, and they sat down to talk. He had questions for his daddy, questions so innocently wondered by a 5 year old, and so impossible to be explained by an adult.

Daddy, why did the planes crash into the towers?
Why didn't those bad men like our country?
Why did they have to kill so many people?
Did everyone in the towers die?
Did the bad men die too?
But why did they want to hurt us?

Why, Daddy? Why?

Perhaps, one day, as a nation we will have answers to the questions. Perhaps, one day, our children won't have to ask them anymore.