Happy July 4th!

               

What a wonderful country we live in . . . those of us in the UNITED STATES of America, don't you think? It's easy to forget how fortunate we are, isn't it? Easy to get caught up in all the negative stuff that is out there, and really forget how absolutely amazing this country is or how completely and totally blessed we are to live here. Why, we have freedoms that some can't even begin to think of. We have opportunities that many don't even know exist. We can have dreams, and don't have to be afraid to follow them. Yes, I remember.  

The U.S. of A.

We are so very blessed. And I will never forget those who have helped us get here, either. To become "the land of the free, the home of the brave". From our founding fathers, to men and women who have fought and continue to fight to protect our freedoms. Yes, today I celebrate our Independence . . . but I also celebrate those who helped us get here, and continue to keep us here, each and every day. 

Today I want to share a little moment Phil and I experienced at the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington D.C. back in May of 2010. I know I have shared it a few times in the past . . . you may have even read it here before. But I ask you to take a few moments and read it again, for every time I revisit this post, it stops me in my tracks and changes me. It reminds me of how very young our nation is, how we have had turmoil and hard times, fought with ourselves, forgot lpeople who should not have been forgotten about . . . but how even in all of that, we are made up of a human kind that can turn things around. A human kind that can love, and not fight. One that can find, even in its time of darkness, the strength to continue on. 

Phil and I were in D.C. over Memorial Weekend a few years ago. On this particular night, we took a night time bus tour of the city. We arrived at the Vietnam War Memorial late, and this is where the story unfolds . . . 

"It was dark by this time (close to 9:30pm), and you could barely see the names on the wall. We walked slowly along, stopping regularly to say a prayer for the fallen soldiers. We'd pass people with flashlights here or there, and watch as they searched for a familar name. One particular area caught my interest, and PG and I stopped where a woman, around 60 years of age I would guess, stood with two park rangers. One park ranger had the flashlight shining on a soldiers name, and the woman was talking.

"He died in 2004. I filed 20 pounds of paperwork to petition to have his name added. When he came back from the war in 1969, he had lost both legs, the use of his right hand, and his right eye. But he didn't let that stop him ... he went on to counsel soldiers and help others ... my brother ... he's right here with his troop now."

By this time, a few others had gathered around us to listen to her story. I heard the ranger tell her how much she appreciated hearing this. "Yes," she continued. "You know, I reviewed all of his medical records and I kept seeing the name of this doctor who treated him. They had to pump tons of blood into him to save him. So, I found that doctor. I'm a librarian and I found that doctor and called him. He is an elderly gentleman now and he doesn't practice medicine any longer, of course. He didn't remember my brother, and of course he wouldn't because he probably worked on so many of the soldiers over there. I asked him, 'Did anyone ever thank you for what you did for our soldiers?' and he said, 'Well, no, ma'am. No one ever did.' And I said, 'Well, I thank you.' Yes, I did. I found that doctor and I thanked him." 

She thanked him. For saving her brothers life. Amazing. "My brothers name was added just this week. I think it's in the perfect spot, don't you think?" she asked, touching the newly engraved letters. "I think it looks lovely," she said.

Many of those standing near had walked on. But this woman remained standing there, holding her fingers on her brothers name. Edward F. Miles. PG and I were now right next to her. I wanted to say so much, but all I could find inside of me was simply, "He's death wasn't for nothing. His name belongs here, and he will be remembered forever. Thank you so much for telling us his story... Happy Memorial Day." She let go of his name and hugged me. A stranger. And together, we honored her brother, who forty years ago was sent to a country to fight for freedom."

Today, I am thinking of him, Mr. Edward F. Miles. I am thinking of his sister, that she knows how amazing I think she is for working so hard to have her brother remembered. I am thinking of the doctor who saved him. And all the people in the world who believe in freedom and who are brave enough to fight for it.

Don't ever be too busy to stop and hear a strangers story. It may change your life forever. 

Happy 4th of July, my friends. 

Much Peace to you always!