September 11th, 2001.

I remember exactly where I was on this day. 

Sitting in my first grade classroom thinking about how nice it would be to be a butterfly.

We were learning about butterflies for science and my teacher wanted us to all picture what it would be like if we could be a butterfly and change from a small creature to a beautiful, natural masterpiece with wings that let us fly away to wherever we wanted to go.

That was when the phone rang.

“Hello, Mrs. Myers room, first grade”.

I remember seeing the horror stricken look on her face, the terror in her eyes. She didn’t make a sound, only grabbed the remote for the television and switched it on to channel 10.

It was horrid, the way things changed in a split second. One moment we were all sitting around thinking about happy things like butterflies and the next we were looking at people jumping out of a burning building in New York City.

I didn’t understand, even when I heard what the people on the news were saying, I didn’t understand why people would just crash a plane into a building with people inside. It seemed so wrong to me, like it shouldn’t ever happen. I still wish I didn’t understand, that I didn’t know what it meant that thousands and thousands of people literally went up in smoke that day in those buildings, that other lost their lives because they were trying to save the others who couldn’t get out fast enough. I wish I didn’t know what it meant that my country was suffering.

My friend Zoey was sitting beside me, looking up at the screen with tears streaming down her face.

“Zoey it’s gonna be ok”, I scooted close to her and put my arms around her.

“No Vi, it’s not”, she whispered, never taking her eyes off the screen.

“Why do you say that?” I buried my head in her shoulder.

Zoey took a deep, wracked breath, “My grandpa works at the world trade center” she said, and she turned to me and began sobbing into my shoulder.

I was speechless. Someone she loved was in that building that was now crumbling to the ground right before her eyes and she couldn’t do a thing about it. It wasn’t fair. I wanted to scream and kick and yell and shout, but I couldn’t. I had no words left inside me that could convey to her what I wanted to say.

The teacher went around hugging every child in the room, we were all hugging each other, and I just sat there in my seat, devastated, speechless, and completely alone. I could do absolutely nothing at all, and then my mind went back to the butterfly…

I wanted so much to be a butterfly just then, able to fly away from this awful place where bad things were happening. I wondered what the people in those trade centers were thinking when the planes hit them, did they want to be a butterfly too, is that why they jumped out the windows of the high buildings so they could fly away and never have to see another horrid thing like this again? I wanted them to be able to have wings so they could soar, so they could float away from all this pain and tragedy..but they were just frightened catepillars who didn’t have to time to grow theyre wings. Now the only wings they have are that of angels, but theyre still the most beautiful wings in the world.

I haven’t thought about this moment in my life for a long time, and the memory is painful to think about now, but I know that it is one that I will never forget just for this reason.

Although this moment is hidden in the back of my mind, I remember one thing that has been the same because of this memory…

I’ve never looked at a butterfly the same way again.