A little girl writes about one of the hardest things she has ever had to do: sing at a memorial service for the victims of September 11, 2001.
I don't know how I ever got through it.
One of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my young life is sing in front of people, even when my own heart was breaking, and even though the event in question was anything BUT joyful.
I was just a little girl then; this was two years back. I was nine, going on the age of ten, and I was asked to sing a couple of songs for the upcoming one year anniversary of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks upon America. The memorial service was going to be held in downtown Nashville, and it would be a day of remembering what had happened only the year before, and it would be a day of praying, mourning the loss of the dead, and reflecting on the significance of what had happened and still trying to figure out why it happened.
I usually am tickled pink to sing in front of people, and as long as there is an audience, I will be more than happy to sing; but this time was a time where I didn't FEEL like singing. My heart was still breaking and numb from the attacks, and I was feeling sad and confused; and I also was mourning the deaths of some friends of my mother's and also M'buti's; and I was angry inside. I wasn't being very Christian-like in my thoughts, and I was wishing that those people who had done the bad deeds would be punished and held accountable for what they did. My arthritis and my asthma both were giving me fits (stress somehow makes my asthma or arthritis a lot worse), and I was feeling shaky and scared. I didn't want to stand in front of a whole crowd of people and sing songs like "God Bless America Again" or "God Bless America" or stuff like that when I was feeling nothing but pain (in more ways than one!). Yet, I felt honored to be asked to sing at the memorial, and I knew I had no choice BUT to get through it as best as I possibly could. I knew I would probably cry or forget the words or mess up; but I was determined to get through it, as a way of paying my own respects to the dead and injured; and seeing I knew some people who had died in the attacks, I had to do it for THEM.
We were downtown all day; and we heard speech after speech, and eulogy after eulogy; and every so often we would be silent as we remembered the fallen heroes and victims of the terror attacks; and it seemed that my turn would never come. But then they called my name, and I went up to the microphone and sang a very shaky rendition of "God Bless America Again", trying to keep from crying; but it didn't work. Tears blurred my vision, and they spilled over onto my cheeks, and I barely could get through the song, but I did; and I was glad it was over. I went back to the backstage area, and it was more speeches, more eulogies, and more bell tolling for all the victims, and also looking at movies and stuff of the attacks; and it was all very upsetting. I then came back later, where I did my second selection; and that was that for me. I was done; but I still had to stay until the memorial service ended some time later. It was a very long and trying day for all of us who went to the memorial, but it was nice to see people coming together and showing their support for America and the terror victims. Even though I didn't want to, I am glad I went, and I am glad I participated; I think I helped people (and myself) heal somewhat, and I think I made them feel a little bit better, a little more comforted, in the process. But it was still among one of the hardest things I ever had to do in my life!
I don't know how I ever got through it.
