When terrorists attacked the symbols of our national unity and

Hearken, O children of tomorrow, and attend to the words of Michael Enzi, who spoke after a time of sorrow and trial, when the very symbols of a great nation had been struck down by those who sought to wound its spirit. He declared that when terrorists attacked the symbols of national unity and strength, they misunderstood the nature of true power. For they mistook the stone and steel of buildings as the foundation of a people, not realizing that such symbols are but outward reflections. The real strength of a nation, he proclaimed, dwells not in monuments, towers, or domes, but in the living spirit of its people.

The origin of this insight comes from the aftermath of September 11, 2001, when mighty buildings in New York and Washington, embodiments of commerce and governance, fell to ruin. Those who struck sought to weaken the United States by destroying what seemed to represent its strength. Yet Enzi, and many others, recognized that though structures may crumble, the resilience, courage, and unity of the people could not be destroyed. In this way, tragedy unveiled the deeper truth: that strength does not reside in the visible, but in the unseen resolve of human hearts.

Consider the profound meaning of his words. Symbols are powerful, but they are not the source of power. A flag may represent liberty, a capitol may embody unity, a tower may proclaim ambition—but they are reflections, not the essence. When enemies sought to tear down the reflections, they forgot that the essence—the courage of men and women, the unity of families and communities, the indomitable spirit of citizens—remained untouched. Thus, the true foundation stood firm, even when the outward symbols had fallen.

History gives us echoes of this truth. In World War II, the city of London was battered relentlessly by bombs. Buildings burned, landmarks were reduced to rubble, yet the spirit of the people, their will to endure, only grew stronger. The enemy sought to crush morale by striking symbols, but instead, they revealed the strength of the human spirit. Enzi’s words stand in this same tradition: it is not in the stones, but in the people, that true national strength is found.

Emotionally, this teaching reminds us of the nature of resilience. When hardship comes, we may lose possessions, homes, even monuments we hold dear. But these are not the essence of who we are. The essence is in the community that stands together, the courage that rises in adversity, the sacrifice of those who help and protect. The people themselves—ordinary men and women—become the true fortress, greater than any wall or building.

The lesson for every generation is clear: guard the symbols, but trust in the people. Invest in their education, their resilience, their unity, their compassion. For towers may fall, but a people bound together in strength and trust cannot be destroyed. The true wealth of a nation lies not in its architecture or armies alone, but in the steadfastness of its citizens.

O seeker of wisdom, let this truth guide your steps. Do not place your faith solely in the outward symbols of your life—titles, possessions, or structures. These may fall in time. Instead, cultivate inner strength, unity with others, and the courage to endure. These are the foundations that cannot be shattered.

Finally, let the teaching endure through the ages: strength resides in people, not in buildings. Enemies may strike symbols, but they cannot extinguish the human spirit. Protect your community, honor your neighbors, and cherish the resilience that flows from shared struggle and shared hope. In this way, as Michael Enzi proclaimed, nations endure, and their future shines bright even when their symbols are shaken.