I have ever rarely mentioned to people how much I have pride in my country. Some days I seem like an anarchist, railing against the government and all they do, but by it’s sunset, I’m the kid singing “Star Spangled Banner” with a cracking voice.

I was only about seven ten years ago. I remember very little from that day, except when my teacher left the room, came back, and the principal walked in and said “Whatever happens later today, I want you all to know you are safe.” My memory turns into a blur after that, and the next thing I know our bus driver is telling us scary things about what happened today and I’m crying. That’s it. I don’t have a sad memory of today.

The biggest, and by far the most important, memory I have of today is the day after. When we all got to school, and everyone was ready, the principal took us out to the flag outside, where we all gathered around to say the Pledge of Allegiance, sing the Star Spangled Banner, and prayed. It was the first, and the last, time I would ever pray like that in school.

Now knowing what went on during that day, I can feel nothing but pride and sadness. I feel horrible knowing that so many passed on, but when I hear the stories of the firefighters, the people who turned back, and Flight 93’s takeover, my tears are because I am a part of the country that made such courageous people.

I did not know a single person who was killed in the attacks. I weep with those who lost, because to me, they are my brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, grandmas, grandpas, and friends too.

Today, I will remember.

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