|
Dear Soldier, Sailor, Airman, or Marine:
You don’t know me, but I know you. You were the boy
next door, the kid who delivered my paper, the skinny girl in my
daughter’s gymnastics class. You played ball with my son and worked
summers at my favorite burger joint. We have probably never met,
but I know you.
You are a brother, sister, favorite niece or nephew, and
someone’s best friend. You are the child of parents who love you
more than they can explain, feel pride words can’t carry, and bear a
weight of worry they never dreamed possible.
There are probably a thousand things you’d rather be
doing than what is before you now or what may be asked of you soon.
Combat is always possible when one wears the uniform, yet you donned
it with full knowledge of the risks. Not everyone would do it; I,
for instance, did not. Perhaps I’d make a different choice today
but this time the decision was yours. You chose to serve.
The type of people we consider heroes is kind of odd
when you think about it: athletes chasing records, movie stars and
musicians, some of whom likely adorn posters in your old room back
home. Yet these folks rarely sacrifice more than time and effort,
pursuing ambitions that profit only themselves. There’s nothing
wrong with that in itself; it’s what most of us do in some form or
another. It’s just not the stuff of heroes.
You, on the other hand, hazard your life for a wage that
has many military families on food stamps. You wager it for an
ideal and a way of life, not wealth or fame. If the chips fall
wrong, the price you pay is for others.
Who’s the hero? We’ll probably never know your name; I
suspect you don’t care. My own children are just short of military
age but I have raised them to do what is right because it is right,
not for gain, glory, or even gratitude. If these things come, so
much the better. If not, your success is no less because personal
reward wasn’t the object in the first place.
Despite a few noisy voices, history shows the price of
freedom is nothing less than blood. It is not bought so much as
leased, a fact some have forgotten after years of relative peace and
the increasingly unrestrained license that has come to pass for
liberty. I admit some of us thought your generation might be the
first to lose sight of that altogether. We were wrong, and I’m
glad.
I’d have written sooner but I’ve been pretty busy. If
that sounds shallow, I suppose it is. At least it finally occurred
to me I have the luxury of busyness with career and family because
you and hundreds of thousands like you are willing suit up, ship
out, and take your chances. Seeing your young face on television, a
face I have seen at the playground and on the high school volleyball
team and in the grocery store, drives home how very much you have on
the line. The least I can do is drop a note to say thanks.
I do know you, and I know your family. I know how
anxious they are and how much they want for your future. I
understand how tremendously proud they are. The rest of us are too,
even if we’re too wrapped up enjoying the freedoms you protect to
remember to say it.
Please look after yourself and be as careful as you
can. I will be praying for you and your family. We all want you
home safe.
Sincerely,
A Grateful American
|
