September 11, 2001 was a typically beautiful autumn morning when my husband and I awoke to greet another new day. Small rays of bright sunshine peeked through the edges of the mini blinds that shade our bedroom windows. As is my husband's usual morning ritual, he made his way to the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot. It wasn't long until the tantalizing aroma of coffee wafted its way into our bedroom.
While waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, I opened the blinds and listened to the cheerful songs of a choir of songbirds I saw perched in our flowering cherry tree. They sounded happy just to be alive and I felt blessed that they found our yard a friendly habitat. At times I fully believe their sole mission in life is to entertain us with their cheery singing.
Like the songbirds, I too was happy just to be alive that morning. The previous day, September 10th, had been a very special day for my husband and me - it was our Golden Anniversary. In retrospect that day, we had talked about how swiftly those fifty years had passed and how many blessings we had enjoyed. We also reminisced how coincidental it was that we were married on a Monday and that our 50th anniversary was on a Monday. It was wartime back in 1951, and just two short weeks after we were married my new husband, who was serving in the U.S. Army at that time, boarded a troop ship that took him across the Pacific Ocean. He would spend the next thirteen long months in the war-torn country of Korea. On our Golden Anniversary we once again thanked God, as we have so many times over the years, for his safe return from Korea.
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