Travel Sized Bites.
A selection of short stories submitted by visitors to the site between 500-1000 words
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new york mission
By Author: Carmen Wise
E-mail: Wiseword@Cadvision.com
Submitted on Sunday 3rd March 2002
I just returned form a personal pilgrimage to New York City, a place I have always dreamed of visiting one day. Here are my first thoughts upon my return.
UPON RETURN
This is a wounded city.
Everyone is coping, struggling to carry on, leaning on each other, leaning on God for strength and hope, grateful for kind words, for encouragement. There are no strangers in New York City, to each other.
The WTC is a gaping open wound.
Everything around the pit has been cleaned up with a few buildings either scoured by the collapsing buildings or windows blown in but still looking in good shape. But many are not yet re-occupied.
There is such a holy presence, a sense of reverence, in the officers guarding the place, in the many impromptu memorials with offerings of flowers, t shirts, hats, photos of lost ones, banners to sign. People stay and read the messages from people who have traveled from every part of America or the world. A little church right next to the collapsed area, St. Paul's, is perfectly intact with its centuries old cemetery looking over the destruction. It is the place of refuge and food for the workers. Some dear sweet evangelical Christians have set up a booth and offer prayer to visitors. It seems right.
I have never been in such a kind city. Everyone wants to help, show us to get here or there, where to eat, what to do. Often we would be guided directly to the subway stop or the street we needed to be on. Just ask, I heard over and over.
Everyone is hurting in some way, economically seriously. More taxis than tourists. More empty hotel rooms. Bankrupt businesses. Quieter streets. Lower prices for everything, even the romantic horse and carriage rides around Central Park. Tours. But there is no bitterness. There is a quiet strength and knowledge that it will get better and they will be better for it. This too shall pass away.
We felt welcome, like family.