We were on our way to a homeschool event. As usual, I switched on NPR news for the morning (can't take my kids' music til I'm fully awake!). I felt as though I were listening to War of the Worlds, tuning in as we did to the news of the second tower of the World Trade Center being hit. Silence fell over the car.

My 15 year old and I have had a lot of news-sparked discussions about the way our world can view his generation as being unfocused. "Guess we have a cause now, huh?" was his first dry comment on the reports.

It was to have been a planning meeting of parents and kids, this first homeschool meeting of the new school year. We entered the home to another 15 yo, "Do you know they bombed the World Trade Centers? There's a fire in the Pentagon and on the Mall." We gathered around the CNN News.

We were all upset in our own ways. "Omigod -- this is another Pearl Harbor," said my friend.

"Mommy, will planes hit us here?" asked a tearful 8yo redhead. Feet shook, chairs rocked, sighs raised into the air. People began calling their friends and loved ones from cell phones and the house phone.

I paced in and out from the TV to the kitchen -- unsure what I wanted to do. I remembered that when the Pueblo went down, I blacked myself out from the news for a month --I was in my 20s then and just simply couldn't handle it. Now I have teenagers though; just didn't seem appropriate to stick my head in the sand.

We comforted kids, and regrouped momentarily to decide how to spend the day. The older kids were due to go off for a group effort called 'LifeSmarts' -- what a way to start! They decided they wanted to go, and they wanted to go to basketball practice afterwards. Mostly, I think they didn't want to let us adults sink into the blackness of worry that they felt rolling in. Kids are so wise.

The younger kids were to have a "horse club" planning day. With very little persuasion, my 13 yo daughter took the kids out to the barn to teach grooming. Blessed moments for the parents without kids around so we could pray, think, discuss, comfort. One friend found out her brother had overslept and was not in the Pentagon where he was supposed to be. "I thought I would just let myself sleep through it all, but I guess it's not possible," he told her. We laughed ironically when she told us.

We went on about our business, addressing the kids needs, as that was our aim. They groomed, rode horses, took care of the animals, fed them treats. We relished being the audience of this precious group, perhaps even more than usual. We stayed much later than we planned, reluctant to leave each other's company.

I kept thinking of my son who was away from me then -- only 10 minutes away but he was out of touch. I breathed a sigh of relief when they called us from the basketball court to say they were there and about to play.

The day rolled on -- replay after replay, yet I could scarcely tear myself away. Thank heavens for my kids, who served as a reminder that I have to live in today, not worry about tomorrow. On the way home my daughter asked me if we could "PLEASE not listen to this stuff for awhile!" I respected her limits. It felt good to just joke around and listen to the events of the kids' day.

My Quaker meeting called an emergency meeting for worship that night. I was so thankful. I offered the rest of my family the opportunity to come, but none chose to, so I picked up a friend and we went. Again, a different perspective, a different level of sharing. Fear, disbelief, shock. Confusion. Then, entering the door of the meeting, that immediate sense of communion with the folks of today and the souls of yesterday. Wisdom far greater than my own. Comfort from a place outside the box.