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A Tribute to a Soldier

There is something I take for granted.  Something I sometimes forget to give thanks for.  Something I have shared in all my life.  That something is the beautiful flag.  That red, white, and blue, that flag that sometimes flies strong on its pole, sometimes hangs limp there, that flag we put up in the mornings and take down at night.  That flag that sometimes flies through the night, in the gleam of a spot light. That flag that has come to me at a great cost, at the sacrifice of great men and women. That flag that God has allowed to fly free over my great home of America.

Because God has allowed her to guard our land, we are free to do many things.  Free to enjoy a life of plenty.

I can drive to Wal-Mart, Sam's, Dillon's, or any store at anytime and see shelves upon shelves of food from canned fruit and vegetables, to flour, sugar, bread, meats ...you name it!  Instead of walking into a little store, your footsteps echo off empty shelves and you're told  "There is on sugar, flour, beans or bread ...until after the war.

I can tiptoe to my bedroom window and stare out into the moonlit night .  It is so peaceful there, stars by the millions, and I dream.  Instead of laying there ...listening...wide eyed...to the far away roar of a plane.  Knowing they are on their way to yet another raid.  Knowing your sweetheart is in the pilot's set.

I can hop on the four-wheeler and ride around in the pasture, counting the cattle who are grazing so peacefully.  Instead of seeing broken down fences that jeeps have ran through, scaring the cattle ...upsetting life.

I can get up to a beautiful sunrise, put on my jogging gear, and take off down the road, running free, running happy.  Instead of watching a plane heading straight at me, fear raising within my very being. Knowing I must run, run as fast as I can...for shelter.

I can look into the eyes of my grandchildren: seeing them full of laughter, full of love, full of contentment.   Instead of a pair of little eyes looking at me full of fear asking, "How long Grandma?"

I can watch from my window at night: the lightening flashes, the thunder roars, rain pours down...so at peace there beside my husband.   Instead of laying there, covers pulled up to my chin, eyes wide with fear, knowing that flash was from a bomb...how close?

I can climb to the top of Pikes Peak, boat down a winding river, walk barefoot in the sand, and fish at a quiet mountain stream.

I can make my grandchildren cookies, bread, a good meal... instead of wondering where our next meal will come from.

I can take hold of my husbands hand as we bow our heads at the table, so thankful for what we have, or walk freely into the church of my choice.   Instead of thanking God for His blessings in a whisper, our heads held high, our eyes open...afraid of being seen.

I can snuggle down beside my husband on a winters night on the old couch: laughing together, talking together.   Instead of setting there all alone, wondering where he is, wondering "is he ok?". wondering if he will ever come home.

I know, my soldiers, that you have carried that flag to many a battle.  I know you have watched your buddies fall at your side.  I know you have looked at empty beds and wondered why them and not me.  I know the deep fear you must have every time you are sent on yet another raid.  I know the pain deep in your heart as you kiss your sweetheart, your wife, your child...good-bye.  I know how lonely you must get way over there, all alone.  I know all of this.

But do you know how grateful I am to you?  Do you know that I hurt every time I see one of you bend to kiss your sweetheart good-bye?  Do you know how proud I am when I see one of you in uniform, even if I don't know your name?  Do you know that I am humbled to think you would give your life for my freedom?  Do you know I cry when I watch you look at those empty beds, or bent over your buddy---sobs racking your strong frame?  Well I do and I always will, because you are our hero's

Yes, when I see that flag flying free in the school yard, or hanging limp on a front porch, when I stand beside a grave or watch her being lifted off a coffin....folded so carefully and handed to a loved one.  When I see her flying on the courthouse lawn. or watch as she passes me by in a parade.  I am thankful.  I feel blessed.   I feel special.   I remember.

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