The phone rang. My mom answered. Her expression turned startled and frightened. That got our attention.
"Who is it, Momma?"
"Momma, what's wrong?"
She didn't answer us. She went into the living room.
We were seven and five years old. Our attention spans were short. She left the room, we forgot about it.
Then we heard the TV go on in the living room.
Hey, no fair. If Mom gets to watch TV during school time, so do we.
We almost leapt up and went into the living room, but my mom came out seconds later and went to my dad's study. What was up?
She returned with my dad seconds later. They went back into the living room. I heard my mom saying something about "My mom called...she told me..."
More muffled voices. Matt and Lizzy and I exchanged glances. What was up?
My mom poked her head in the doorway. "Hey, guys? We want you to see this."
TV DURING SCHOOL? Oh yes. We ran into the living room.
It was news on TV. News? News was boring. But why was this such a big deal?
Towers. We saw towers. Towering building, towering smoke. Plans. Fire. Crumbling.
"Some people flew planes into the Twin Towers," my mom explained. I'd never seen her look like that before. Like she was trying hard to be calm. Like she was holding in a great sadness. "Lots of people work there. Lots of people have died."
Matt, Lizzy and I watched.
"Why?" I asked.
I don't remember what she said.
"Go get some blank paper and draw a picture," she suggested to us. "Draw what you see."
I drew a building with debris flying. I remember being very detailed about it. I could feel this was important. I remember being careful to draw on cords on the blinds of the windows.
Lizzy drew the building too. She drew fire and stick people.
Matt drew the building. He drew debris he drew...raindrops?
Momma: "Matt, what are those?"
Matt: "Those are God's tears."
~Kendra
