Twenty Years of Tears. Every September 11th, for the last 20 years, we’ve all cried throughout the day. Such horror and heartache. So much lost that day, we grieve. How can it be possible that such hatred walks among us? Evil took to the sky on that brilliantly blue Tuesday morning, changing our way of life forever more.
Flying used to be something I loved so much. People were kind to each other on flights. Dressing respectfully, it was a treat, not a right. Airline seats were bigger. Without cellphones, there was a chance your seat mate would be an interesting chap with a story to share. Flight attendants, called Stewards or Stewardesses back then, were wonderful and helpful, because they were in the air where they wanted to be. Before or after the flight, captains gave out golden wings to the children and asked them if they wanted to see the cockpit. Times were innocent because no civilized human being would have ever thought of using a plane for a weapon. 9-11 changed all of that.
People were expected to be on their honor, because, Americans were trustworthy people. Rules were made to follow, especially in an airplane. No one would’ve dreamed of harming anyone, let alone a plane full of innocents and children. No. The simplest of human decency and kindnesses made those days magical.
The week leading up to 9/11 is a tough one for me. Last year, my first widowed autumn, I was in the dumps. Each day, I’d run to Walmart to buy something small just to get out of the house. It was then that would see them. Kids and coaches. The first group I would notice was the High School Cheerleaders practicing high kicks and flips. This group of girls was out every day in In-Town Park, doing their best to follow the instructions of their watchful coach. School was closed. There would be no football games or competitions, but these girls showed up to work with their coach day after day. Just a group of girls working on their skills as a team.
The second group ran. They ran and ran and ran. The cross country team coach and his runners paced themselves as they ran along Highway 85A. With rhythmic footsteps, they followed one another on a mission. Bringing up the rear was their coach, watching to make sure everyone was okay. Again. No school track meets. No race to be won, except personal ones. They ran as a team for the sheer love of running.
Two teachers working with their students, doing what teachers do best. Caring for kids. Being a good example while helping everyone to strive for personal excellence in an empty arena. Great teachers are angels with a clipboard, and most teachers ARE great teachers. No one I ever knew taught for the paycheck.
It was September 9, 2020 when an idea came to mind. A random act of kindness. Sitting at my desk, I wrote a handwritten letter to each coach. I didn’t know them. That mattered not. The letter explained the impact their team had on me. I challenged them and their team to choose a small way in which to make something better for someone. In each envelope, I slipped $100. The letter remained unsigned.
On the morning of September 11, before school, the letters were left with the secretary. One addressed “Long Distance Track Coach”, the other “Cheer Coach”. Smiling, I crept away feeling better.
No. I never heard whether or not they chose to do something good with the funds. I know in my heart, they did. I know kids. I know teachers. The release and healing was in the giving. That was reward enough for me.
On this, the week leading up to 9/11, I’ve planned two Random Acts of Kindness.
#1. I’m delivering a letter and $100 to the auto shop in town. There, I’ll ask the owner to apply it to the next single mother’s bill. I remember being that mom. A broken car would’ve been something else I wouldn’t have been able to afford. It’s not a new car, but, I can do a little to help someone trying to do their best. The owner will know just who it would help the most. Who knows? Maybe he’ll donate some, too. Kindness has a way of rubbing off on people.
#2. $100 will go to the Senior Center to cover lunches for 50. That should be at least two days of free meals! Who doesn’t love a free meal? It’ll give everyone something to smile about. Again, maybe someone else will get the idea and do something else kind.
Small towns are a place we can all make a big difference. Kindness comes in all forms. Time donated. A neighbor helped. Sometimes just a wave and a smile can change the day for someone sad. 9/11 is a day for kindness and everyone has some small way to show it.
Please don’t ever forget. Don’t ever think enough years have past. Don’t ever think enough tears have fallen. Don’t discount kids and their ability to process something horrific. Kids need to know, too. Horror happened that day. It wasn’t just some people that did something bad. It was pure evil that attacked our country and way of life. We all need to remember what we lost and stop to think about those that died that day. We all did just a little.
Now, go do something kind. It will make your day!