Lights in My Life

By James Stephen Behrens

I was reading in an old lawn chair behind a barn at the monastery. At my feet lay scattered a few magazines and journals — and a single page I had printed from the Internet edition of The New York Times. It was a beautiful fall morning. The skies were clear and a deep blue. An occasional jet flew overhead, on its way to the Hartsfield Airport in Atlanta. As I looked up, I thought of the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, the field in Pennsylvania. I do not think that I have seen an aircraft since 9-11 without thinking of all those people, the destruction, the pain.…

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