Prayer
It was past seven. Everyone had already left the memorial to morn at home; all except Alfred F. Jones, aka America. America has been staring at the 9/11 memorial since he had gotten here that morning; watching the families morn until they left. Now he was alone and he felt it; like no one was there to care.
"Excuse me."
America jumped slightly before turning to look behind him; there stood a priest who looked in his fifties. America frowned before turning away; he wanted to be alone, he didn't deserve any company.
"You look like you could use some solace Mr. America," the priest said; walking to America's side.
Tears fell from America's eyes and he fell to his knees with a chokes sob; his head in his hands. "How can they forgive me when they're hero wasn't there?! Why did this happen?!" he sobbed.
The priest kneeled and took America's shoulders in his hands. "I don't know why God does the things he does. I just know that he has a plan for everything," he said.
America surged forward and hugged the man tightly, crying into his shoulder. The priest gently held him.
"God's plans will becomes clear one day," the priest whispered.
.
.
.
Take the challenge.
I ask every 9/11 why God let something like that happened, to America, to any of his kids. I'd like to hear your ideas or views as to why or for any reason of anything. R&R
Ciao
Sympathy for the Lost Love