Look out your window, step outside,
Take the time to lift your eyes.
As on eagle's wings, may your spirit soar,
Then, just imagine, your child's at war.
He heard that call, he answered, "Yes,
I'll serve dear Lord, I'll do my best."
You watched that plane depart the gate,
And to your knees, you began to pray.
You watched for mail, computer stalled,
Your phone was set to 'catch all calls'.
On special days, you heard from him,
He was ok, you prayed again.
Late one night, as Mothers do,
You held his bear and got the news.
From the skies a rocket fell,
There began your days of hell.
You prayed, you cried and screamed his name,
"Please God, just let me know it's not in vain."
As dawn approached, a car door slammed,
"Your son's alive, just broken, Ma'am."
And so began a Mother's quest,
To know he got the very best.
You placed those calls to foreign lands,
Your son was safe in doctor's hands.
You sent him cards, you called, you wrote,
And then one day you saw a post.
A friend had seen a Silver Star,
Created for the wounds of war.
God had blessed a special man,
To honor you, your son and then,
The doorbell rang, your mail came,
"In honor of a special name".
"We send to you our love and prayers,
We want to tell you that we care.
We sent your son a Silver Star,
To honor him for his wounds of war".
Now beside her Blue Star hangs,
A Silver Star that bears his name.
She thanks her God for those who cared,
Just imagine had there been no one there. |
