In the early days of the pandemic, my youngest child made bedtime even longer than usual with marathon discussions about any topic he could imagine in order to keep me by his side as he fended off sleep. Sometimes I found myself nodding off to the rhythm of his voice. But one night he jolted me into full focus when he asked: “Mommy, which was scarier, 9/11 or coronavirus?”

On September 11, 2001, I found myself on the roof of CNN’s New York studio staring south at the burning towers, watching the first building collapse before my eyes, as the sound of exploding concrete and steel reverberated for miles. My colleagues at the network and I worked round the clock, vetting stories of loved ones missing amidst the rubble; first responders who went inside and never came back out. I bore witness to images of people jumping from the burning towers on raw footage I was tasked with viewing upon its arrival into our office. We chose not to air that particularly painful video, but to this day I still cannot unsee it.

When Erev Rosh Hashanah arrived just six days after the planes struck the World Trade Center, I felt guilty leaving my co-workers for the holiday, but secretly relieved to get the break. Looking back, that Rosh Hashanah did not just serve as a respite from the daily intensity of the moment, but also as a time for reflection, rekindling my hope we would emerge from that crisis and regain our strength as a nation.

During the month of Elul, Jews around the world recite Psalm 27 during daily prayers as we ready ourselves for the upcoming high holy days. “Hope for the Lord, be strong, and God will give your heart courage, and hope for the Lord,” reads the final verse of this psalm, the repetition emphasizing how hope is an act of faith that brings us strength.

This year, the act of hope feels all the more essential as we make our way into a Rosh Hashanah like none other. Even during the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, Jews could collectively pray and celebrate the new year. Amid a pandemic that keeps us apart, gathering in the usual ways to observe Rosh Hashanah may be challenging. Yet, we can still honor our traditions and take time away from the daily stress of our current climate.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, the former chief rabbi of the United Kingdom, writes: “To be a Jew is to be an agent of hope in a world serially threatened by despair.”

Rosh Hashanah marks a new beginning, a time to ask God and others for forgiveness, and a time to reflect on how we can improve ourselves and the greater world around us.

High holiday services will look different this year, whether being streamed or even for those synagogues finding ways to open their doors to congregants. While we may not be able to pray together in the typical fashion this Rosh Hashanah, there are still many ways to connect with our own inner agents of hope. We dip apples into honey and recite the blessing for a sweet new year; with the tashlich ceremony, we throw bread into a local body of water, symbolically discarding our sins; we can make a festive meal with loved ones inside our “bubbles.”

The holiness of the High Holidays gives us an excuse to set aside our electronics and take a break from the anxiety provoking headlines that constantly bombard us. By observing the traditions of Rosh Hashanah, even when all our customs may not be accessible, we engage as agents of hope that in the midst of this pandemic despair, we will emerge stronger and sweeter than ever.

Mimi Sager Yoskowitz is a Chicago-area freelance writer, mother of four, and former CNN producer. Connect with her at mimisager.com .