September 11th

Today is September 11th. Twenty-five years now. A quarter century, and the date still needs no explanation for anyone who was there — and carries weight even for the many who weren’t yet.

I won’t try to say anything large today. Larger voices than mine have tried, and the day resists summary anyway. What I’ll offer instead is the thing I always come back to, the thing Fred Rogers’ mother told him: look for the helpers.

On the worst day, people ran toward. Firefighters climbed stairs. Strangers carried strangers. Boats appeared from everywhere to ferry people home. Lines formed to give blood. In the middle of the darkest morning, the helpers were everywhere — and they still are, every day, in every crisis large and small. That’s the part of the story that’s also true.

Today: remember. Hold the people who lost someone. And if you want to honor the day with more than memory, be a helper in some small way — today, and after.

On the worst day, people ran toward. The helpers were everywhere. They still are.

How do you carry this day — and who are the helpers you’ve seen in your own life?