One week after that terrible day five years ago, I wrote a column for the Register in the form of a conversation with my then 17-month-old daughter, Olivia:
"It’s time to put your toys away and get ready for bed, Olivia. Mommy and me will read "Goodnight Moon." Then "Polar Bear, Polar Bear What Do You Hear?" And "Ten, Nine, Eight." Maybe one of your Kipper books. It’s been a long day, and you’re yawning. I’ll give you a hug and a kiss and after a while you’ll drift off to sleep in your crib, Winnie the Pooh and Henrietta Hippo by your side. Soon daddy will go downstairs and turn on the TV with the volume low. I’m glad you’re just 17 months old. You don’t understand the horrible images being shown on TV. The two-inch high headlines in the newspaper don’t mean anything to you. I don’t have to explain to you that there are evil people in the world consumed by hate and blinded by religious fanaticism."
Over the years, I thought about that column but never read it from start to finish. So much has changed in my life in the last five years, so much has happened in the world and, certainly, Olivia has grown from a toddler to a beautiful girl.
Now seems like a good time to have a new conversation with Olivia, a first-grader in love with books, her little sister, friends and life:
"It’s time to finish your homework and get ready for bed, Olivia. When you wake up Monday, you’ll pick out a nice outfit, get your backpack on and I’ll walk you to the bus stop. It will seem like a normal day, no different from any other. That makes me happy. Five years ago, I wondered when the day would arrive when I had to explain what a terrorist is, what a war is and why American men and women are dying. The day I dreaded is nearly here. Your world is expanding so quickly. I know I can’t shield you from cruelty forever. I will tell you that terrorists are bad people who want to hurt you for no other reason than you live in the United States. Sometimes I don’t understand why we’re fighting a war in Iraq, but I’ll tell you that our soldiers are very brave and deserve our support.
Five years ago, I told you you would have a job to do. You must work for peace and protect our way of life, a life of freedom and equality. How can you work for peace? Well, at the bus stop this morning, you will stand with Jewish, Christian, black, white and Muslim children. They are your friends. They are Americans. You honor their beliefs and respect their differences. You prove by example what makes this a great nation.
I was wrong five years ago when I told you that by your first day of school, all of this would be over and evil people would be punished. I’m afraid you will grow up in the Age of Terrorism. For now, don’t worry. Mommy and me will love and protect you. Just like that night five years ago in your room, I’ll give you an extra long hug.