Before going to the office, I waffled a few minutes between preparing for a meeting and doing my normal Bible study. I opted for the Bible as the best preparation for the day. So I left my apartment feeling a clear sense of inseparability from God—a strengthened awareness that my relation to Him had prepared me for the meeting or anything else that would happen that day.

I live on Fifth Avenue just a block from the office. It's a short walk, but full of the flavor of New York's busy determination as people rush to work. The hint of fall in the air, and the clear blue sky, added to my inspired awareness of being close to God. I was looking forward to a day with a wide horizon.

Out of the elevator about 8:45, I dropped my things in my office and went to the conference room for the meeting. I immediately noticed out the window that one of the towers at the World Trade Center was on fire. As others arrived and saw the black smoke and heard the rage of sirens from the street below, it was apparent the situation was serious.

Back in my department, my staff gathered to listen to the radio and TV. Several were terribly appalled at the unfolding events.

One co-worker and I agreed we needed to turn away from the horror. We went to a small office and, after a few minutes of silence, began to share prayerful ideas as we thought of them. We declared that no individual could ever be separated from God and their true spiritual being as His beloved child. We continued to insist on God's presence and power—no matter what we might see happening. Deadly sins of terrorism could not overtake and destroy anyone. The idea of one family came to us: that the one holy family is Father-Mother God and His/ Her perfect child.

We were able to go back and be a calm presence for our staff. Still, each of us was silently praying.

I was called to my office for a crisis-management briefing. By the time I reached that floor, the second plane had hit the other WTC tower, and many employees had gathered to look out the windows. As the first building collapsed, many employees were crying and fearful The calm ones put their arms around those who were overwhelmed, holding them up. I held myself up mentally with prayer:

In my boss's office, even as we focused on crisis planning, we could see the cloud smoke from the collapsed tower grow. I participated in the planning, but my thought was also focused on the true and only possible outlook for every child of God—a clear and cloudless horizon of good. I thought, the bigger the lie about man—that anyone could cause this catastrophe and put others in such peril—the shaper and more piercing the truth that dispels the lie had to be.

Although I can't say that fear never crept into my thought and voice, for the most part my thought was turned away from the images outside our windows. I went to my keyboard throughout the day to write my thoughts and prayers, to keep from going into a mental pit of fear and shock over the scene framed clearly in our windows.

But if I was to be of any use, I had to be oriented of good, and away from this mesmeric trance of doom. I went back to the spiritual study that launched my day. I particularly liked this reference from Mary Baker Eddy's book Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, which I use in my Bible study: "Matter, sin, and mortality lose all supposed consciousness or claim to life or existence, as mortals lay off a false sense of life, substance, and intelligence. But the spiritual, man is not touched by these phases of mortality" (p.311).

By mid-morning, most of our 500 employees were all called to meet, just as the second building collapsed. The meeting began with quiet, then silent, prayer. By then, caring provisions had been set up: a chapel on the 10th floor, counselors on the 12th floor, a communications center on the 17th floor. And, we had each other.

Back at my computer I typed more prayers. I wrote, "We have many employees whose loved ones worked in the World Trade Center, family and friends. We are helping them. We are all very quiet now. We all have God, here and now. Listen."

Throughout the day as colleagues passed in the hallways, eye met eye, but few words were spoken—only "knowing" and silent caring.

By the end of the day, most of our employees had heard from their loved ones who worked in the now-collapsed buildings. Gratitude was tempered by hope and prayer that others might also be safe.

Finally, on my way out, around 6 p.m., I met a colleague—Wendy— and we stopped at a corner, observing that the city looked as it does early on Saturday or Sunday: people walking in quiet contemplation. Wendy walked with me until our paths diverged. Big hugs and love were expressed.

From my apartment on the 27th floor looking north, although the sky was clear and bright, the city seemed paralyzed under a somber pallor. This was a hard moment. From the roof, looking south, I could see the huge dark cloud hovering over the site where the WTC had stood just that morning Another hard moment.

Once again the Bible study regained my attention as it had all day. The truth of inseparability from God and His children kept me going.

September 12

This morning I went to the roof at sunrise. The sky was cloudless, except for the plume covering the void where the buildings would have glistened in the morning sunlight. As our city and citizens everywhere regain their strength, we will be able to bear the apparent absence of human presence this emptiness represents. We will look out upon a cloudless horizon of peace and feel God's presence.