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The house was quiet that Saturday morning, when the sunlight softly wakened ten-year-old Kate. The sweet sunshine gently pulled her from the dark nightmare that had held her all night long. Tears filled her eyes again as she remembered that her horrid dream was actually reality. The lifeless bodies, weary men, sobbing women, and screaming children-she had seen all these broken people on the news just days before. This time, the frightened masses from the television were real people. Real people whose lives had been devastated by the events of that dreadful day…September 11.
Kate tried to forget the mountains of debris from the fallen twin towers and other plane crashes. But she could not. Yet the optimism of childhood captured her; and suddenly, her mind was refreshed by the memory of all the good men and women who had volunteered to help in the chaos of that day. Not just police officers, firemen, and military personnel…these people were heroes. Kate grabbed a pencil and some paper and wrote of the heroes she had seen on television that day.
Writing helped her that Saturday morning. For as she wrote, Kate saw the thick layers of evil melted - overcome by the good that shone through that day. Time and time again, Kate would pick up her pencil and some paper and write. Something new bloomed in Kate’s heart that day. It was more than a new hobby, it was a new perspective. Even though she saw the evil in the world, the more she wrote, the more she saw God. God and His goodness shining through.
There is a big Rubbermaid container under Kate’s bed today. In it she keeps her journals, diaries, stories, dreams, and poems. Every page of every notebook is like a window to her heart, and she counts every word she has ever written as a gift from God. She has yet to forget how she felt that morning so many years ago. How captivated her mind was by her new-found friend…writing. Perhaps she will never forget that feeling, for every time she picks up her pencil and some paper, she feels the same way.
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