For millions of Americans, there is one question that requires almost no thought before answering: Where were you on September 11, 2001? We remember.

We remember where we were standing. Who we were with. The television screen. The phone call. The confusion that turned into horror as we realized America was under attack.

Twenty-five years later, an entire generation of Americans cannot answer that question.

Our children do not remember September 11. And if “Never Forget” is going to mean anything beyond a slogan, it is our responsibility to teach them not only what happened that day but what America showed us in the days that followed.

This year marks a quarter-century since nearly 3,000 people went to work, boarded airplanes, reported for duty or simply began an ordinary Tuesday morning and never came home.

Our children should know what happened that day. They should know about the innocent lives taken in New York, at the Pentagon and aboard United Airlines Flight 93 in Pennsylvania. They should know about the firefighters who climbed the stairs while everyone else was coming down. They should know about the police officers, paramedics and typical Americans who ran toward danger when every instinct told them to run away.

I believe we must teach them something else, too. We need to tell them about September 12. Because if September 11 showed us the worst of what can happen to America, the days that followed showed us something extraordinary about Americans.

We helped one another.

We checked on neighbors. We donated blood. We stood in church pews and at candlelight vigils. We hung flags from our homes, businesses and highway overpasses. People traveled across the country to help complete strangers dig through rubble.

For a moment, the labels that consume so much of our lives today seemed smaller.

We were not Republicans and Democrats first. We were not red states and blue states. We were Americans. That is the part of the story I worry we are losing.

Our children are growing up in a country that has become remarkably good at teaching them what divides us and becoming increasingly uncomfortable teaching them what unites us. They see Americans reduced to political parties, identities and social media profiles. They watch disagreement become contempt. Too often, they are taught to see America primarily through its failures rather than as a nation whose freedoms generations of men and women have sacrificed to defend. That cannot be the inheritance we leave them.

Loving this country does not mean believing it is perfect. America has never been perfect. Patriotism means believing in this country and the freedoms it was built to protect, and those freedoms are worth preserving, improving and passing on. It means understanding that our fellow Americans are still our fellow Americans even when we disagree. And it means teaching our children that courage, sacrifice, service and love of country are not outdated ideas. They are the things that hold a nation together when everything else falls apart.

Parents cannot outsource that responsibility. If we want our children to understand what America is worth, we must tell them ourselves.

The people who showed us that on September 11 were not superheroes. Most woke up that morning expecting an ordinary day. They were firefighters and police officers. Office workers and flight attendants. Military personnel and airline passengers. Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, friends and neighbors. When the moment demanded something extraordinary of them, ordinary Americans answered.

Our children need those stories.

Not because we want them to live in fear of what happened, but because we want them to understand the kind of people this country can produce and the kind of people we should still be raising.

Someday, those of us who remember September 11 firsthand will be gone. The question is what will remain when we are.

Will September 11 become another paragraph in a history book? Another date students memorize for a test? Another anniversary that slowly loses its meaning as the years pass?

Or will our children understand why, after all these years, we still stop? That part is up to us.

“Never Forget” was never meant to be a slogan we post once a year. It was a promise. A promise to remember the people we lost. To honor the people who ran toward danger. To remember the evil that attacked our country. Also, to remember the America that emerged from the smoke. An America that stood together.

Twenty-five years later, keeping that promise requires more than remembering the past ourselves. It requires passing its meaning to the generation that wasn't there.

They may never be able to tell us where they were on September 11, 2001. However, if we do our job, they will know exactly what it meant.

Emily Stack is the executive director of Moms for America Action. She wrote this for InsideSources.com.