CHAPTER 35

If I could turn back time

The next forty minutes passed in horrific and terrifying reality. News of another plane crash in Washington DC reached them in the small chapel by means of frightened people seeking the peace that a church could bring when they were certain their world was ending. Parents, who knew their children were on a field trip to the chapel, began to show up to pick up their frightened young ones and a police officer offered to take the rest of the children back to the school and away from the danger of the blazing towers.

Only Monica felt the need to stay behind, knowing her students were now safe, but she did not have the same luxury when it came to her husband's safety. The fact that he had not been to the chapel to look for her spoke volumes; he was out there helping somewhere; she was sure of it. The little angel had remained rooted at the back porch of the chapel, tears streaming from her dark eyes as she watched the horror continue to unfold. More than once, she had been able to see someone jumping from one of the buildings and silent sobs had shaken her shoulders. Pastor Donovan and the other chapel staff, as well as a few onlookers had joined her, all of them unsure of what to do to help and for now deciding that staying out of the way was the best option.

"This country is never going to be the same again," Sarah, one of the secretaries, whispered, "I can't even imagine how many people have died this morning."

Monica longed to say something wise about God and his love, but before her anguished mind could put the thoughts together, the ground seemed to shake once more. Their eyes shifted to the buildings again and horror filled them as they watched the first tower seemingly begin to collapse within itself.

A cry escaped Monica's lips, certain she could not be seeing what her eyes were telling her, but a heartbeat later, Pastor Donovan's strong voice yelled through the incredible noise, "All of you! Inside! Now!" And though she felt rooted to the spot, hands were soon pushing her back inside the church.

"Under the pews, everyone!"

Obeying, Monica covered her head, even as broken cries escaped her lips. In all her years as an angel, she had never witnessed such a tragedy. She knew Andrew had. The holocaust. Wars. But she was younger and such a blatant act of terrorism upon innocent people she had never seen. The reality of it nearly crushed her tender spirit.

The entire world seemed to rumble and vibrate before it all went quiet, other than soft sobs and sniffles, a few whispered prayers.

"Everyone stay put," The pastor's voice was shaking, even as he tried to remain calm, "If one came down, the other is sure to follow."

Minutes ticked by and Monica, feeling frightened and alone, closed her dark eyes as she laid her cheek against the cool floor. Unsure of what else to do, she took her mind to the One she knew would always hear her.

"Father...help us all. I can't even imagine how many of your children have been killed today and I don't even understand why. I know your heart is broken too...so many families have lost loved ones...so many people will never be the same...but Father, you know my heart too. It may be selfish of me and I am so incredibly sorry if it is, but Andrew, Father. Keep him safe. I love him so and though you know that I have never known for certain if you approve of our feelings for each other, please, don't let him suffer. He's out there, trying to help your children, I know it with my very soul. Protect him as only you can. I need him, Father. I need him so much..."

Her silent prayers continued for long minutes until yet another rumbling shook the chapel, which somehow remained intact despite its close proximity to the towers. When silence once again prevailed, the refugees of the chapel crawled slowly out from beneath the pews, their expressions dazed as their minds struggled to understand would could not be comprehended.

Outside, the ground around them was covered with what looked like ash and it continued to float through the air, making it thick with debris. Monica, Pastor Donovan and the others slowly wandered outside, their disbelieving eyes looked where the twin towers had once stood, only now there was a huge empty space as they were both gone, the remnants in the dust on the ground, and in the air, and in the steel that would remain behind.

"I can't believe St. Paul's stands still," The pastor murmured, "The force with which those buildings collapsed...it is nothing short of a small miracle."

An older gentleman, who had taken shelter with them over the last hour, walked slowly out into the yard, surveying the minimal damage that had been done to the church, glancing in the direction of the towers and then back again, "It was the tree, Reverend. This Sycamore took the impact and kept the church safe. Not really a miracle at all, just good landscaping..."

But to one small angel, this fact held much great significance. Walking through the inches of dust to the tree, she laid a trembling hand on its trunk as her mind went back to a much happier time.

"I was here with an assignment and I clearly remember telling that young man, who didn't know what he would do of his life, that every small gesture, for as meaningless as it might seem at first, can have consequences that might last through generations."Andrew explained. "And then I planted this tree and told him that it may never grow, but if it did at least it would serve as a shelter on a hot day, or as a refuge to the birds. I told him to cultivate the hope in every small action he did, and that he should put his heart on each of them, because they were all part of God's greater plan."

Her Andrew...her beloved angel and husband had saved her life and the lives of the dozen people who had turned to the chapel for safety. Without the tree, it was hard to say what could have happened to them. Even unknowingly, he had once again protected her.

With dust settling in her auburn hair, and against her skin, the angel, Monica, rested her head against the tree and cried.

X

The later morning was simply a continuation of the horrors that had begun just after eight 'o clock that morning. Roads and airports were closed off and all planes were ordered to land. Yet another plane had been taken down in Pennsylvania though no one knew many details yet. The streets of the city were crowded with people; some trying to get out of the city and others desperate to find their missing loved ones.

And there was still no word from Andrew. Occasionally, Monica would catch sight of a fire fighter and her heart would pound in hopeful anticipation, only when his face, full of anguish and despair would turn her way, she would discover it was not her husband.

But small miracles were happening as people in a city that usually moved far too fast began to come together to help. Cases of food and water began to appear close to the chapel for the rescue workers, and Monica, Pastor Donovan and some of the others helped to distribute it to anyone who seemed in need, and for the angel, it allowed her to continue her search for her husband. She had helped clean and bandage numerous cuts from when the towers had come down, as people in the streets had been impacted and unable to get out of the way in time. After all, no one could have foreseen any of this, especially not the collapse of the buildings.

As they handed out water to police and rescue workers, more seemed to appear, given by good Samaritans who needed to feel useful. Giving water seemed like such a small thing to do, but it was a kindness obviously appreciated as lives touched for that moment in time it took to pass a bottle from one hand to another, and Monica always tried to offer a word of encouragement or a prayer that she hoped might bring a fraction of peace to a troubled heart that had seen far too much.

"Thank you."

Though the face of the fire fighter was covered with soot and ash, Monica instantly recognized the voice, "Chief Davidson!" her hand was instantly on his arm, her dark eyes searching his, "Andrew...have you seen him?"

"Monica.." Bill Davidson had met Andrew's wife on numerous occasion and had always been charmed by the sweet young woman with the huge heart, but now he was loathe to speak to her.

"Yes...Andrew's wife. Have you seen him? Is he all right?"

She was pleading and he had no idea what to tell her, "Monica, I did see him earlier...he came back after going off shift and hearing what had happened..."

"Oh thank God! Then he's okay? He's here somewhere helping?" Her fingers clenched at his arm as her eyes searched his face.

"Monica...I don't know the answer to that. I...I saw him earlier but not in awhile. We...our unit...we lost a lot of men today..." He watched in near agony as her expression slowly changed from hope to fear and he rested his hand over hers, "I last saw Andrew going into the South Tower...right before it collapsed."

"But people have gotten out," She insisted, "I heard that ten or more fire fighters got out...they were in part of the building that held together..."

"That's true and those men are all accounted for. Andrew wasn't one of them, Monica," He was keeping his voice as gentle as he could. He had seen so much death today, so much despair, but none of it seemed as great as what was in the brown eyes facing him.

Her throat was suddenly impossibly dry and her head was once again spinning, "What...what are you...telling me? Are you saying...that...that Andrew's..."

"No," He cut her off as he squeezed her hand, "No, honey. It's just too soon to know much yet. He's probably around somewhere...maybe he took someone to the hospital or...is helping someone..." Despite the fact that he believed it to be a lie, he couldn't bring himself to take her hope. It suddenly felt as if the world's ability to hope after a day like today depended on hope being present in Monica's soulful brown eyes.

Ignoring the fact that she didn't think Chief Davidson was telling her the truth, Monica instead nodded her head, "Of course he is. When you see him...will you tell him I'll be here...at the chapel, waiting for him?"

"Of course I will...and I'll check back with you when I can, all right?" Bill knew that the days ahead were going to be long and difficult, but Andrew was one of his men and if anything had happened to him he would need to take responsibility for Monica in the days ahead, at least as much as his schedule would allow.