To them, it's just another day.
But, as I held a sparkly star pointer and said the date at calendar yesterday, I felt my voice catch just a bit. Not enough for a five-year-old to notice, but enough for me to notice.
"Today, boys and girls, is Tuesday, September 11." That was it. Simple. But after 11 years, my heart still drops everytime.
No, we didn't talk about it. No, none of them asked. Why would they? It's just another day for a five-year-old.
And in that private little moment, I realized something. A hope. A wish. I hope there never comes a day in those little ones' lives that they feel like I did the day the towers fell.
But, sadly, I know they will.