"I am Not Impressed"

Last night, I decided to take the girls on a walk/bike ride to the park. Mikayla rode her bike, and Macey and I followed with the stroller. We were enjoying our time on the swings, crawling up the stairs, sliding down the slides and twirling on the merry-go-round.
Then I heard a little boy say, "What the F*#@!" I couldn't believe it. He couldn't have been but 9 or 10 years old - if that. Mikayla was on the merry-go-round with this little boy, and she decided to hop off. She grabbed a stick, and said, "watch this!" as she tried to break it in half. The same little boy started yelling at her that it was his stick and to give it back. Confused, Mikayla didn't know what to do, and she looked at me for what action she should take.
This sacred stick was a just a stick that was laying on the ground. It was the same as any other stick that could be found among the wood chips. The little boy proceeded to yank it out of Mikayla's hand. I'm thankful that at this point, Mikayla didn't start to cry. I think she as a little in shock at the situation. I felt that now I had to intervene.
I asked the boy if his name was on the stick, and how was a little girl supposed to know it was his? I told him that if he wanted the stick for himself, he needed to put it in a place that a little girl wouldn't pick it up, thinking it was an ordinary stick. I asked him how old he was, and he yelled at me that he was 9. I told him that Mikayla is only 4, and it's not nice to yank things out of other people's hands. He proceded to yell at me, and then I see his dad make a beeline for me. He starts yelling at me that I have no right to yell at his son, and holding his cigarette between his index and middle fingers, pointed in my face and told me to "mind my own damn business." They quickly left, then it was time for us to head hone, too. As Mikayla mounted her bike, she said to me, "Mommy, that little boy yelled at me, and I am NOT impressed!"

10 years later...

I woke up that morning, rushing to get to my 8:00 a.m. education class. It was my fifth year of college, and I was 22 years old. As I was driving to ACU, the DJs on the radio were talking about an airplane that ran into the World Trade Center tower. In my rush to get to class on time, I didn't listen to details, and I thought to myself, "Some idiot flew his cessna into the tower." I get to class, and I'm sitting next to a friend named Roy. We talk about the plane hitting the tower, and we both agree the guy must have been an idiot. Not much else is said in class, because none of us really know what happened. When class is over, I walked to the campus center and saw the TV mounted above the stairs. It was then that I realized it was indeed not a cessna that ran into the WTC tower. I stood there, mouth agape, along with others in the middle of the campus center. I didn't know what to think, much less do.

I skipped my next class and went home immediately to call my parents and let Marka, my best friend who had come back to Abilene for a visit. Marka was still asleep on the couch when I walked in and told her the towers had collapsed. She didn't believe me, and I had to turn on the TV to prove to her what I was saying was true. We sat there for hours, glued to the TV. I talked to my parents, and they were ok. We agreed to meet in Comanche if there was a need to evacuate.

I looked down at my Timex watch, and I realized the date: 9-11. I told Marka, and we cried. I had to go to work that night at Texas Roadhouse, but I didn't want to. I just wanted to watch the TV, thinking how it seemed like a movie, but it wasn't: it was real.

I got to work, and no one was talking about anything but New York. The managers had brought in a TV for the kitchen staff to be able to watch what was going on while they cooked the food. There were only about two tables who came in all night, so most of the others servers were cut early, so they got to go home. I stood in the bar area glued to the TV most of the night, until I too got to go home.

My dear children, I relate to you this story, because this was the single most tragic terrorist attack on the United States in recent history. It took place years before you were born, but you will learn about this day in school, and you will be reminded of this day every September 11 that you are alive. The events of that day are still vivid in my memory, and that day forever changed America.

I want you to understand that there is a very real evil force in this world. We were reminded of this 10 years ago today. America was founded as a Christian nation, and for that reason, many people hate America, and Americans. America must stand strong against evil forces. In the same way, you - as Christian women - will be persecuted for your faith, but you must stand strong and be of good faith. The Lord will be with you every step you take, and you must always be prepared for the evil that will try to tear you down.