When deep despair surrounds us like a tower falling down—
Of steel and glass and grayest ash
And the world turns upside down.

When the anguish of uncertainty turns our mortal hearts to dust
And the saltine tears that ceaseless fall
Blur our weary sight with rust.

There are angels who, with outstretched hands
Will catch us as we fall,
Who sweep away the soot and smoke
As heavy as a pall.

They gather up the shards of glass
And sort them, one by one;
Then light the stars that fill the night
With hope bright as the sun.
These angels are not spectral forms—
They have no feathered wings.
They have hands and voices, helping hearts—
They’re simple human beings.

While we have one another to support us through the night,
To ease the bruises, heal the fears—
Understand each other’s plights

We also will find strength enough to build a better land:
To value family, friends and home
As we lend an outstretched hand.

Wherever it is needed, wherever grief is spent
Blessings return a hundredfold
To the one whose hand is lent.