I went to the post office the other day and standing behind me was a big, strapping marine. Dressed in camo fatigues and heavy boots, he stood straight and tall, cloaked in quiet dignity and a strength that was apparent in his muscular physique.
A feeling shot through me that's hard to explain. No...it wasn't lust, he was young enough to be my son. It was more like a feeling of safety, that everything would be okay.
As I was leaving the postal clerk who was helping me the young soldier and I almost ran into each other. He stopped, motioned me to continue on with a polite word and a smile that was like a breath of fresh air. And I thought, how proud his mother and family must feel, while struggling with the fear of what he does for a living, where he might have go to serve the United States.
True, for now he was in Florida.
Where will he be tomorrow?
7 comments:
I can well imagine your thoughts, Debbie. I saw lots of service personnel when I was changing planes at Atlanta and thought about what a difficult job they have to do.
Margaret.
The sight of someone in uniform makes my heart swell with pride. My hat is off to those brave men and women who serve our country.
What a lovely blog! Thank you for reminding us of the sacrifices these young people are making.
I recall seeing some the last time I traveled too Margaret. Couldn't help wondering where they were heading.
Ditto, Sarita!
It's so sad that we've lost so many young heroes in the war in Iraq. No matter what the outcome, I don't think it's worth it.
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