09/11/2026
Twenty-five years.
For most of us, today is a memory. We know where we were standing. We remember the phone calls, the televisions left on all day, the silence in the sky that week.
But for some people, today isn't a memory. It's a re-living.
The wife who set the table for one that fall and has set it for one every fall since. The kids who grew up on stories instead of a father. The firefighters and police officers and paramedics who went in when everyone else was coming out and the ones who came home carrying something they've never been able to put down.
For thousands of families, this isn't an anniversary on a calendar. It's the hardest day of their year, every year.
So we're praying today. For the families who lost someone. For the first responders and their families. For the ones still carrying the injuries, the visible ones and the ones nobody can see.
Would you take sixty seconds today and do the same?
Not a post. Not a share. Just a minute, wherever you are, for people you'll probably never meet.
That's a good use of a minute.
