I apologize for the delay—the attack on America deserves to have been remembered on September 11.
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The following is the conclusion to a heartbreaking essay by Miranda Frum (16-year-old daughter of National Review’s David Frum). I urge you all to take some time to read it all:
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That night when my father finally came back, we watched the news. My brother and I decided to act like adults just in case we had to be adults later. The news showed people in a far away place we imagined to be happy, courtesy of Aladdin, dancing in the streets, celebrating. They had succeeded in something. I will never forget the fear I saw that day, or the pain it caused my parents. The men were dancing in that far away place, but the song they were dancing to was the tears and pain of Americans.
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The following is the conclusion to a heartbreaking essay by Miranda Frum (16-year-old daughter of National Review’s David Frum). I urge you all to take some time to read it all:
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That night when my father finally came back, we watched the news. My brother and I decided to act like adults just in case we had to be adults later. The news showed people in a far away place we imagined to be happy, courtesy of Aladdin, dancing in the streets, celebrating. They had succeeded in something. I will never forget the fear I saw that day, or the pain it caused my parents. The men were dancing in that far away place, but the song they were dancing to was the tears and pain of Americans.
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That was six years ago. But it still seems like yesterday.
That was six years ago. But it still seems like yesterday.
Conservative Standards 