Vocatus atque non vocatus, Deus aderit
This is still my favorite column about September 11th. I choose not to forget. I had slept in, taken my morning walk late and was just making my first cup of coffee when my daughter called me. “Mom,” her urgent voice said, “I saw the plane fly into the tower. I saw it, Mom! I was watching the television in the break room and that plane just flew into the second tower.” That is how I learned that our country was under attack. America once again began an emotionally tumultuous day—Pearl Harbor laid out before our eyes. My husband and I are in the habit of having a glass of wine with dinner and toasting to any small, significant or touching thing that happens during our day. That night, as I raised my glass, we both quietly spoke the words that were uppermost in our minds, “To the United States of America.” Of all the lessons that can be taken from that day, one of the least discussed and most poignant is what happened to St. Paul’s Episcopal Ch