Project 9/11

Chapter 3, To Help You Heal



3: To Help you Heal

Thomas found himself in a small classroom, after the services, he was surrounded by a large group of kids his age; Ten through thirteen year olds. There were boys and girls of all nationalities; some had come from as far as California, while others were local. The only thing they shared in common was the loss of a parent or relative when the Towers came down. The councilor walked into the room, she was a young lady in her early twenties. She spoke in a loud but warm voice.

”Good afternoon, I’m Leah Mendel, I will be working with you this afternoon. I have a project that I use to help people who suffer from great losses, my specialty is Art Therapy.”

Several students squirmed uneasy in their seats, she continued:

”I know there are some here who are artistic, and then there are others like myself, who can’t draw a straight line. Nonetheless, you don’t have to be a great artist for this exercise. Sadness, Fear, Anger and Rage are not emotions we want to deal with, when we don’t express them they get buried deep inside us. It is ok to express these emotions, but it is sometimes it is hard for us to do so, we have been taught to always be nice. Being nice has no room for these monsters.” She paused as some members of the group laughed softly.

”I want you to tap these emotions on paper with your drawings. Once it is brought out, it can be dealt with. You can rip up and toss your drawings away and feel a sense of release from these dark thoughts. I want everyone in the room to use the paper being handed out, and use the crayons, there is a box on each table, (sorry, you’ll have to share the box with your table) and then I want you to draw your thoughts about what happened on 9/11. Don’t be afraid of doing a bad drawing, or of not doing something good enough, you will not be graded, and you can even keep the picture you draw and not show it to anyone. If you want to share your thoughts about it, we will post the pictures and discuss them after we are done.”

Thomas’s picture was unique. He drew in stick figures, which kind of embarrassed him, his best friend could draw real good. His picture showed the two towers, and an airplane coming straight in, but between the plane and the building was a stick figure drawn taller than the buildings themselves, with a hand out, ready to catch the airplane before it hit.

He drew it from his heart and without thinking. The image went on to the page almost by itself. The councilor walking from table to table, stopping to talk with the children about their work, when she got to Thomas’s desk. She looked at the picture, stood silent a moment, then asked,

”Who’s that standing by the buildings?”

”It’s the Lord Jesus.” Thomas replied, the councilor was moved, and asked if she could keep this one after the session, He was kind of ashamed of it, and was going to throw it out anyway.

”Sure,” said Thomas, “why not!”

#

It was later that evening at the reception that Thomas saw his councilor again, this time she was sitting on the far left, at a table closer to the President. Next to her was seated a distinguished looking older gentleman in a tweed jacket, with glasses and thinning white hair. There were several other people at the table as well, including a well dressed Japanese man looking very much like a banker, with his young wife.

Thomas noted to himself that the older man with glasses and a few other men sitting at the table were wearing funny looking black caps.

There were over a hundred and twenty guests in the dining hall, which was decorated tastefully with flowers and flags. The president was going to make a speech later in the evening but there were other speakers from congress and civic groups to speak first.

Thomas was surprised when the old man sitting next to his councilor was called to the podium. He was introduced as a top scientist, Thomas whispered to Nan that he knew the young lady seated beside him. They found out that the old scientist lost his wife, his son and his extended families of two boys and a baby girl to the 9/11 Terrorists.

Dr Mendel spoke of how hard it has been to bare the loss of everyone he loved, only his daughter Leah, had been spared. He spoke of turning despair into hope and of the promise of life and it’s beauties for everyone who holds on to their faith.

The President was called upon last, he spoke forcefully about waging a war against those who had done such evil,

”We will never rest until all terrorists responsible for this heinous and cowardly act are brought to justice.”

*

It was after the meeting that Thomas and his Aunt were introduced to the councilor and her father Doctor Mendel.

”Young man, I was very impressed with the drawing you did at my daughters session How old are you my boy?”

”I’m ten sir” Thomas politely replied.” The old man spoke, “Most in the room drew pictures of what happened, but you chose to draw what you wished would happen.” Thomas turned his eyes down in embarrassment.

”No, no, it’s a beautiful thing, I too would wish to change the events of the day if there was only a way to do it. My Son and his wife were in one of the towers with my grandsons..” He choked back a gentle cough, He daubed his eye with his handkerchief.

”Max was about your age, such a sweet boy.” A tear in the corner of the Doctors eyes could be seen through his thick lens glasses,

”I too wish the Lord had intervened, I somehow find hope in your drawing.” Then almost as if to himself he continued,

”I will find a way to make things right again. I think your picture may have shown me the way.” Thomas was a little puzzled and not a little embarrassed.

”Son, I would like to get in touch with you sometime in the future, you gave me an idea that will help me at work. I’d like to talk to you about it.” Thomas had no idea what the old man was talking about, but remembered to be pleasant and humor older people, he nodded knowingly. He shook hands with the old man, but couldn’t stop staring at the skull cap the man was wearing, having only seen the pope wearing something like that.

”Are you a holy man?” He asked. Dr Mendel caught on to what the boy was staring at, inadvertently reached to straighten his yarmulke with his left hand, and laughed,

”A holy man? No son, I only pray that I am a good man.”

That was Thomas’s first meeting with the Doctor, he was surprised five months later when Dr Mendel called him at home inviting him to see his Lab.


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