Editor’s Note: This article was written for “Seasons” the newsletter of the Presbyterian Church at Tenafly (N.J.) that the Rev. Lindner serves as a parish associate. The church of 400 lies a few miles outside of New York City. Four persons related to the congregation were killed when the World Trade Center Towers collapsed on September 11, 2001.
Five years ago during those terrible days that followed the attack on the World Trade Center, the Children’s Ministry Team asked me to meet with a group of our children to discuss with them the events of that day and their feelings. It was September 30, 2001, the second Sunday following 9/11 when I gathered a group of our Sunday School children together.
After we spoke for a few minutes I took out a pad and pen. When talking with groups of children I often make notes of the discussion. I do this partly to record and remember all that children have shared with me. Another reason is to avoid eye contact with children. I find that groups of children will more authentically engage with one another when they do not have adult eye contact for referral about “right” and “wrong” responses.
My notes from that day went into my briefcase as I hurried off to the 11:00 worship service. Shortly thereafter I must have initiated one of my periodic shifts in the use of my various briefcases. The notes, and the briefcase, went into a closet forgotten for the moment. Last spring in the hurried moments before departure to an airport I grabbed the long unused briefcase and on a scrap of paper dated 9/30/01, I found my notes. Now, five years after the events that shaped their childhood, the long-neglected notes have emerged as an artifact of that time of infamy.
In the course of our discussions that day the children acknowledged that even adults–parents, teachers, neighbors–were feeling sad and frightened. I had asked the children, “What could we do right now to help people feel better?” Their candid, even perceptive answers seemed like good advice at the time and bear witness to the thoughtfulness and optimism of our youngsters, even in the worst of times. Our children, responding kindly in moments that were daunting to adult professionals around them, said:
“¢ “We should pray for the people who died and for the people who didn’t die but knew someone who did.”
“¢ “People cry a lot now, we should put Kleenex in all the pews.”
“¢ “We should have candy at the coffee hour — the kind grown-ups like, like mints. Candy makes people feel happy.”
“¢ “We should rake up all the leaves when they fall off the trees because they are dead and make people feel sad.”
“¢ “We should put the Christmas decorations up early and keep them up late this year because decorations make people feel happy.”
“¢ “We should ask people, ‘How are you doing?’ and wait to listen to their answer.
“¢ “We shouldn’t yell too suddenly or jump out at people because it scares them now.”
“¢ “We shouldn’t go into the city for awhile because it scares everybody.”
“¢ “We should be kind to our parents and grandparents if they cry.”
Five years have passed now and the children who made these suggestions are youth, some nearly teenagers. They continue in our church life to bring us joy and insight. Their pastoral care recommendations from that tragic time show insight and compassion beyond their years. As we mark this anniversary and recall that solemn and unbelievable day, let us remember too the children who knew instinctively to respond with goodwill to the fear and sadness in others in the hope of making things better. Amen and amen!
Eileen W. Linder is deputy general secretary for research and planning as well as editor of “Yearbook of American and Canadian Churches“ of the National Council of Churches, New York City in addition to her duties with the Presbyterian Church at Tenafly.
