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On A Personal
Note...
Now It's Our Turn I sat in the parking lot at the restaurant tonight, pondering the passing cars while waiting for Gina and the boys to arrive. From my vantage point, I had a fine view of a four-lane road alive with every type of vehicle imaginable. The passing cars were meditative -- almost hypnotic. As I watched the cars, my thoughts went to the terrorist attacks of 9/11/2001. I remember where I was when the news started coming in. Even now, I can still see people huddled around certain cubicles where there were radios. And then the TV from the training room was rigged up to watch a local television station. People just stopped and stared as the footage of one of the Twin Towers collapsing was played over and over. But most of all, I remember the tension in the air, and the feeling that this couldn't really be happening. Not to us. Not here in our country. Not to our people. The images we were watching were supposed to be from some faraway place -- just like any other nightly newscast. It's not supposed to happen here. Kaleb had just turned four at the time. Gina and I sat him down one night and explained what had happened. We told him about the bad men who had taken over the planes and then flew them into the big buildings. We also tried to assure him that things would change so that bad people couldn't do that anymore. (Then we prayed a silent prayer that this would truly be the case.) After we finished our explanation of the attacks, Kaleb looked into my eyes with the most serious expression on his face. "But I still don't understand, daddy." Tears welled in my eyes as I hugged him. "I know, buddy. I don't understand, either." And I still don't. One year later, I still can't even begin to comprehend the amount of hatred it must take to cause a man to do something so monstrous. As I continued watching the cars passing by, I contemplated the magnitude of the effect 9-11 has had on the world. The work of a handful of terrorists destroyed the lives of thousands of people, and touched the lives of millions more. I must admit I became a bit depressed as I considered the incredible harm done by a few people in a single day. But then I thought to myself, "If a small group of evil people can wreak such havoc, why can't a small group of good people do a great amount of good?" The answer, I think, has a lot to do with believing in your cause, yourself, and your abilities. If we are more fired-up -- a bit more zealous -- then perhaps a small group of us really can do a great amount of good. A fine example, in my humble opinion, is the work done by the people who write these articles for me -- and for you -- week after week, year after year. The Good News they share is sent to over a thousand people each issue. Not world-changing by any stretch, but it's a start. We believe in what we're doing, we believe in ourselves, and we believe in our ability to reach out and touch your lives in a positive, meaningful way. And so this, dear friends, is my challenge to you on this first anniversary of a most tragic event:
The vehicles kept passing as I stared out the window of my car. On the surface, it looked as though nothing had changed. But looks can be deceiving. A group of hate-filled men changed everything. Now it's our turn. God bless you all, Sound off! Tell me what you think! Copyright 2002 by Brandon Jubar |
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