A Day I’ll Never Forget — Honoring the Brave and Holding Onto Prayer
Honoring the Brave and Holding Onto Prayer
This morning, as the world pauses to honor those who have served, my heart goes back to a day that will forever be etched in my memory—a day when everything stopped, and time stood still.
It was a regular morning. I was getting ready to head to work at the hospital. The routine was familiar. Scrubs on, bag packed, mentally preparing for another day of serving others.
Then, something unexpected happened.
My dad came running toward me—something he rarely does. He halted me before I could leave. I looked at him, laughing a little nervously, “Are you okay?” But his face said otherwise. He was smiling, yet something about his energy was off. He looked breathless, uneasy, like something was terribly wrong.
He blurted out, “Please, don’t go to work.”
Then, as if catching himself, he said, “Call off today.”
I was confused. “Dad, what’s going on?”
He looked at me and said, “Watch the news... New York City... something about planes and the Twin Towers.”
I still didn’t understand.
But I could see the worry written all over him. He was breathing heavily, visibly shaken. So, without asking more, I made the call. I told my boss I couldn’t come in, that I needed to stay with my dad. Thankfully, she understood.
We sat down together, turned on the TV, and that’s when everything changed.
The images on the screen didn’t seem real—smoke billowing from buildings, sirens wailing, people running, crying, covered in dust. We were watching history unfold. A horror we couldn’t comprehend. A tragedy that felt like it had reached into our very own home.
We had family in New York and New Jersey. My dad’s fear suddenly made sense. He urged me to reach out—call my mom, my brothers, our relatives.
But we couldn’t get through to one of my aunts. That was the scariest part. The silence. The waiting. The uncertainty.
We were glued to the screen, watching together as a family. Praying. Crying. Hoping. Seeing people jump, buildings fall, first responders running toward the chaos—it was too much. Too real. Too close.
Eventually, we heard from our loved ones. They were safe, thank God. But the stories they told shook us—how they had to walk across long bridges to escape, their clothes and shoes covered in ash. The fear. The confusion. The chaos.
That day, we prayed like never before.
For our family.
For the victims.
For the heroes.
For every soul impacted by that unimaginable tragedy.
Today, years later, those emotions resurface. The fear, the heartbreak—but also, the unity. The strength. The power of prayer.
So on this day of remembrance, I hold space in my heart for every person who has served our country and for every family affected by tragedy.
We must never forget.
Not just the events—but the lessons. The fragility of life. The strength of faith. The importance of family. And the power of prayer.
This is our greatest weapon in life and in our journey: prayer.
Let’s never stop using it. Not just when tragedy strikes, but daily—for one another, for our nation, for peace, for love.
May we continue to live with hearts that remember, hands that serve, and spirits anchored in hope.
If this story moved you, or if you’re honoring someone today…🇺🇸 Drop an American flag emoji to honor those who served.
🙏 Drop a prayer hands emoji if you're praying for families affected by tragedy.
🕯️ Tag a loved one you’re remembering or holding close in your heart today.
🫶 Or share a moment when faith and family helped you through a difficult time.
Let’s flood this space with love, unity, and remembrance.
Because prayer is powerful. And stories connect us
.#NeverForget #WeRemember #FaithOverFear #CoolTravelMom #PowerOfPrayer #kangenfamily #KangenWater #Kangenlifestyle
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