One month following the attack of 9-11, eleven year old Aaron Walsh wrote the following poem in his school notebook, trying to make sense of this horrible thing that had happened:
I Hold in My Hands
~ Aaron Walsh, 2001
I hold in my hands ... The dust. The dust and wreckage of the towers. Even though I wasn't there, I can still feel it. It has damaged my hands with dirt. It has damaged my heart with sorrow. It has damaged my body with fear, and it has damaged my life with war.
I hold in my hands ... My life. My life could soon be filled with war, cruelty at its worst. Miles away, I can hear the planes' roaring engines, gliding through the air.
I hold in my hands ... My future. My life ahead. Whether it will be filled with war or peace, we will not know. My future keeps me going from dawn to dusk.
I hold in my hands ... Hope. Hope for the future. Hope for peace. Hope for my country's freedom. And hope for America to win this war on terrorism.