I Don’t Have a Veteran


Two stories, separated by sixty years. 

 

2023: Granddaughter After School

 

I pulled out schoolwork the kindergarten teacher had put in my granddaughter’s backpack. I noticed a paper with a large star. Printed inside the star were three blank lines:

 

                             Name of Veteran

 

                             Branch of Service 

  

                             Peacetime or Wartime 

 

My granddaughter explained they were learning about Veterans Day. Students would bring back their star filled out with the name of a veteran, and they’d be placed on the Wall of Honor.

 

“I don’t have a veteran!” my granddaughter lamented.

 

“Oh, yes you do.” So, I told her about a special family veteran and how I was her age when I learned about Veterans Day.




 

1963: Veterans Day Program set-up

 

Dad opened the car door and helped me with my Barbie case. We walked towards the double doors of the school. Dad was helping set up for the Veterans Day program—as an Air Force veteran, he always volunteered.

 

“You can sit here while I help the men.” I opened my case and began to play. But I was also watching the men move tables and chairs. One man limped as he placed the American flag on the stage. I was learning the flag salute in kindergarten.

 

A couple men were carrying in boxes, and they noticed me playing in back. 

 

“Who’s the little girl? 

 

“That’s Bob’s daughter.” 


“When I see kids, I’m glad I served.”

 

Later, I asked Dad what the man had meant. 

 

“He served overseas so kids like you could enjoy their lives at home. That’s why we honor them on Veterans Day.




So, I finished by telling my granddaughter that her great grandpa, after serving overseas,  became an Air Force recruiter on evenings and weekends. He believed in a strong military and wanted to keep serving our nation.


We  wrote the name of my father on my granddaughter’s star. As she colored it, we didn’t talk about war, or politics, or the evil that makes war a reality. Instead, we talked about our freedom and how veterans made it possible to live the way we do. 


It’s about sacrifice for those you care about. Thank you, Veterans.


Popular posts from this blog

Counting the Cost

Image
Something big is missing in this photo. Let me explain. Here in my hometown, the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribe prepared a parcel of land for a new hotel. Plenty of planning and architectural designs were evaluated. A gemstone of a hotel would be built across from the waterfront—a beautiful, restful place welcoming travelers. A true four-star facility.   They cleared the aging brick structures that had been fading away between Front Street and Railroad Avenue. Then the pandemic hit, shortages of labor and supplies, add in the costly inflation that followed. Everything stopped.   But this is what I admire about the Elwha Tribe: they have counted the cost. They didn’t want to move forward and take on tremendous debt. They would rather move slowly and be financially ready, rather than begin building and then letting it sit unfinished.   Counting the cost is something I should have done earlier in life when I didn’t know what high interest rates would do to our farming cost...
Read more

Summertime Music

Image
During the summer months, in an outside seating area, a delightfully painted piano sits with a sign that says, “Play me”.   It was just before 8 pm as I walked past the piano. My bus would be arriving soon, and I still have another ten minutes to walk before reaching my bus stop. But no one is around. It’s a beautiful warm evening. I pulled out the piano bench and sat down. The sun was behind me, and the piano keys reflected its glow. I had no music in front of me, only the songs within me. Notes drifted into the air.  In those brief moments, the magic of music and summer came together. Isn’t that how it is? Summertime music has a way of lingering in our minds and lasting a lifetime. As I stood and grabbed my things, I heard distant clapping—I guess I wasn’t alone, after all.
Read more

Planting Good Seeds

Image
Harvest will always depend on what we plant and how well we care for our crop.    Looking over my seed packets, I notice they’re different than the ones I planted before. One package is called Word seeds. The directions say that each of my words is a seed, so it cautions me to think before I speak. Harsh words don’t produce sweet, nourishing fruit. These seeds will require thoughtful care in the garden. I see some Volunteer seeds. Those extra hours I tend to fritter away are going to be planted in a useful project.   It looks like time isn’t wasted in this garden plot. Next are some Love seeds—the directions are interesting: get up each day and love others. No specifics are given—just do something for someone every day. The seed package shows pictures of smiling faces. I smile back. As I’m ready to head to the garden with my seeds, a package falls to the ground. I open it. Inside are the tiniest seeds I’ve ever seen—but the directions s...
Read more