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In Memoriam-
We went to Mass at the Lourdes Shrine in Litchfield this morning. A lovely Mass and a lovely sermon; the readings were all about forgiveness and letting go of anger. It was a day just like the day ten years ago - a beautiful, clear, early autumn day. And all of us were in tears at some point, I think, during the Mass or later in the day.
I was thinking, again, of those two little girls, Smadar ElHanan and Abir Aramin. And also of an article in Amnesty International Magazine from the months after 9/11. A young man from Iran, the president of his local branch of Amnesty, a business student, and a devout Muslim, was interviewed. He was working in a nearby bank when the towers were attacked, and, like everyone else who could, began to run away. But then he ran back. He wanted to help in any way he could, and worked with the fireman leading people out of the South building before it collapsed. A picture was taken of him, in a borrowed fireman's coat and his business shoes, standing in the street.
This young man said that he asked one of the firemen - the man who gave him the coat? - to tell his family what had happened if he should die. That man blessed him, making the sign of the cross over him. Later, he was treated for smoke inhalation by a Jewish doctor. He said (I am quoting all this from memory, and any mistakes are mine): "I was blessed by three faiths that day. My Muslim faith told me I must go back and help. A Christian fireman blessed me, and a Jewish doctor helped me." And he said, as so many Muslims have said, that the attacks are not Islam. Addenda - I found the article! It's the Winter, 2001-2002 issue of Amnesty Magazine, page 12. That young man's name was Shahram Hashemi, and his picture appeared in Newsweek.
So - I was thinking of that young man, and those little girls, and also of Father Judge, who died ministering to the dead, dying and wounded that day. God bless all of them, and all victims of violence. And may there be peace, and may we help to bring it.
And I have had this song in my head all day, too. I think it is one of the loveliest and saddest things I've ever heard; it's from Benjamin Britten's War Requiem.
I was thinking, again, of those two little girls, Smadar ElHanan and Abir Aramin. And also of an article in Amnesty International Magazine from the months after 9/11. A young man from Iran, the president of his local branch of Amnesty, a business student, and a devout Muslim, was interviewed. He was working in a nearby bank when the towers were attacked, and, like everyone else who could, began to run away. But then he ran back. He wanted to help in any way he could, and worked with the fireman leading people out of the South building before it collapsed. A picture was taken of him, in a borrowed fireman's coat and his business shoes, standing in the street.
This young man said that he asked one of the firemen - the man who gave him the coat? - to tell his family what had happened if he should die. That man blessed him, making the sign of the cross over him. Later, he was treated for smoke inhalation by a Jewish doctor. He said (I am quoting all this from memory, and any mistakes are mine): "I was blessed by three faiths that day. My Muslim faith told me I must go back and help. A Christian fireman blessed me, and a Jewish doctor helped me." And he said, as so many Muslims have said, that the attacks are not Islam. Addenda - I found the article! It's the Winter, 2001-2002 issue of Amnesty Magazine, page 12. That young man's name was Shahram Hashemi, and his picture appeared in Newsweek.
So - I was thinking of that young man, and those little girls, and also of Father Judge, who died ministering to the dead, dying and wounded that day. God bless all of them, and all victims of violence. And may there be peace, and may we help to bring it.
And I have had this song in my head all day, too. I think it is one of the loveliest and saddest things I've ever heard; it's from Benjamin Britten's War Requiem.