Moving On, While Never Forgetting

Wyatt Burky, 1-1/2 years old and topped by a flock of blond hair sat, mostly silently, next to the towering sculpture, far from the eyes of the firefighters and police officers and residents, amused by the magical powers of a single strand of string which he turned over in his small hands.

When his hands grow larger, they will hold history books that will teach him about the day the towers fell on a blue sky morning, before he was born.
They will show images of fires that burned through the night, and explain the sound of hundreds of emergency locators that chirped beneath the ruins.
They will tell him how the photographs of the missing clung to storefront windows in Lower Manhattan several months after the buildings fell, and he will learn of the candlelight vigils, the eerily silent skies, the loss of nearly 3,000 people on a single day and the countless more who were lost across the world when the country fought the long war.

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