I post this every
9/11. I made a promise to myself and to this little boy's memory that I
would never forget him.
This is Rodney
Dickens. He was only 11 years old when he lost his life on September 11, 2001.
He will forever be the face I see when I think of that terrible day.
When photos started
streaming in on TV after the terrorist attack, his little face struck me. I
began to wonder about him. As a mother whose kids were close to Rodney's age at
that time, so many things ran through my mind.
My first thought
was, "Who was with this little boy? Was he traveling alone?" My boys
had flown alone several times.
My heart broke
when I wondered if he knew what was about to happen; that his life was about to
come to an end. Did anyone put their arms around him, or did he face the those
final moments as alone as any human being could ever be? Did he cry? Was he
afraid? Did anyone hold his hand? Did he pray for God to rescue him? Did he
have dreams, goals, plans for his future? Was he even old enough to begin
dreaming of what he would do when he was all grown up?
When I began
researching to find out who little Rodney was, I learned that he was, indeed,
without his parents. He was traveling with classmates. Again, parental
instincts crept in and I sobbed thinking about his mother and his father. Were
they watching as this all happened? How devastatingly helpless must have been
the feeling, knowing that they were powerless to protect their child from the
wickedness of these terrorists. I have had nightmares about Rodney crying for
his parents in the seconds before his life was brutally stolen away on what
should have been a day filled with joy.
And then my
emotions turned to rage. Correlations between this innocent child and my own
children filled me with so much anger, knowing that the terrorists would not
have cared if my children were on that plane. Regard for precious human life
was tossed aside like an unwanted object by those . . . I'm sorry, I cannot use
the word "people". In fact, I don't have any other word for them
besides terrorists. I feel that nothing appropriate even exists
in the English language.
As I write this,
my arms are covered in goose bumps. My eyes are filled with tears. This child.
This sweet-faced little boy lost his life before he even had a chance to begin
living.
Rodney, I never
knew you. But I love you. With all of my heart, I love you.
As long as I
live, you will never be forgotten.
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