Impromptu Prayer

On September 11, 2002, one year after the dastardly attack on the Twin Towers and Pentagon, I was headed down town and went past a small church. There were perhaps 40 people slowly going into the door and a man dressed in a pull-over sweater at the back. He said hello to me, then asked, “Sir, we have gathered this morning, mostly all are not members, but just folks who lived nearby, to have a little prayer together. Would you join us?”

I thought “why not?” so I told him I would be delighted to do so. Inside we formed a circle holding hands. On one side of me was a Chinese lady and the other side was a very young man. I looked about and realized that group represented many races. It felt good.

The man that had invited me in spoke first and said, “On this day one year ago, a terrible thing happened. I have asked you to come here today to offer up your prayers for those lost and hurt by that terrible deed. Please feel free to say a prayer, in your own tongue, to the God of your belief. Let us all share in a fellowship between each of us.”

He started off with a short prayer, then the next in line gave a short prayer. There was a Hispanic couple next who both talked in Spanish. Next was a black lady who spoke with a heavy Jamaican accent. Well, it went around the room with Chinese, Spanish, Russian, English and a couple I did not recognize. Even my own brand of Hillbilly. A Jewish man chanted a short verse in Hebrew.

It occurred to me that God heard and understood every word. Strange, so did I.