I was only six years old when the planes crashed into the World Trade Center. That doesn’t mean I don’t remember the color of the bright sunrise that morning, or the panic of the school administrators with hundreds of kids on their hands or, most importantly, the way people spoke about Middle Eastern people on TV news stations.
If I’m thankful for anything on that day it is that more people did not lose their lives in that terrible attack, and that Americans and other allies across the world came together in love to support the victims of the attack.