The door swings open and sunlight
pours in. My silhouette outlines my feature, a 13 year old girl
wearing blue jeans, her favorite red shirt and clutching a bag of
homemade cards. My dad helps me navigate my way up to the volunteer
office where I am introduced to a smiling elderly woman who will
assist me hand out cards. My heart is racing as a race horse does on
a track, heavy, hard and quick. My
father leaves and the volunteer escort me down a white hospital
hallway. With each footstep I am getting closer, closer to meeting
them. My palms begin to get damp with my nervous sweat. My knees get
weak. I feel like those girls who meet their favorite rock star-
giddy and faint. The volunteer looks concerned as she takes notice
of my anxiety. I explain that these men and women are people that I
look up to with the greatest respect and admire to no end. The end
of the hall way was near. It was time.
I enter a small room with a pajama clad old man
sitting on the bed. His face is vacant with a frown and boredom
clouds his eyes. I stand next to him and wipe my hand on my jeans
before saying clearly as I can, “Hello sir, my name is Morgan. I
just wanted to say Happy Veteran’s day and thank you for serving our
country.”
He turns his head to me and holds out his hand
with a new light shining on his face. I shake his hand and hand him
a card. A thump on my back and a smile is all I need. I say goodbye
and continue, my knees weak and my heart slowing down. I have just
met my first hero. That man was a veteran.
Two years have passed since that November day. The sweet memory of
meeting my heroes still and always will bring a smile to my face. My
country is my pride. I feel like the very colors of red, white and
blue run through my veins. My heart swells with gratitude to those
who have died and served in the past and present. When I meet a
veteran I still get a little nervous and they chuckle.
They all tell me the same thing, “Glad to have
served and I’m just another person.” They may seem like another
average citizen passing you in the grocery store but their stories
and service always make me stick out my hand and say thanks. I was
in Wal-Mart a few months ago with my mom. I passed an old man
sitting on a blue bench with a cap that read “WW2 Vet” in gold. When
I came back I saw him talking with a woman and her teenage son. I
was excited when I asked him if he was a vet and he smiled and
proudly said yes. I thanked him for his service and he quickly
motioned to the woman he was talking too. She had just got back from
being stationed overseas. I thanked her.
Then, with a huge smile on his face the veteran
told me that the teenager was planning on serving. I turned my
attention to the fellow teen and asked him what branch. It was Navy.
I stated I wanted to serve Air Force. The veteran by now was all
excited. All four of us were brimming with patriotism. I really
wanted to stay and chat, but I had to go back and find my mom.
Moments like these are the very reasons why veterans are important.
They keep the American spirit alive and patriot dream’s vivid. They
are the ones who tell stories of courage and value of country that
encourage others to go on and flourish in their day to day lives.
I am constantly running into unpatriotic Americans. They all seem to
have the mentality that their freedom is just there with no cost.
There is no monetary cost. But, from the very first shot of the
Revolutionary War and the very first life lost in battle for America
to be free, the cost has been adding up. Freedom had never been and
never will be free. Veteran’s have laid down their lives and
sacrificed the comfort of leaving their home to protect and defend
the sweet freedom of America.
The red of our flag “symbolize the blood
spilled in defense of this glorious nation”. The “White Stripes…
signify the burning tears shed by Americans who lost their sons,”
and the blue, “is indicative of God’s heave under which I (the flag)
fly.” These words spoken by Thomas E. Wicks, Sr. are the very
essence of our nation. The red, white and blue are the colors that
many people have died for.
The words from Toby Keith’s song “American
Soldier” states what many military personal believe; “I don’t wanna
die for you but if dying is asking me, I’ll bear that cross with
honor ‘cause freedom don’t come free.” I too believe in this simple
statement. My dreams include the military. Which branch is still
unclear and I still have time to decide. Every night I pray for all
servicemen and women to return home safe and for all veterans to go
to bed knowing that their country is still the glorious one that
they fought for. Their service may be completed but their job is not
done.
They continue to be soldiers, Marines, sailors, Airmen and every
other servicemen and women that they were when they were currently
serving. Those names on that great black wall in Washington DC and
the many rows of white headstones in Arlington are more than mere
words or stones, more than just a pretty reflection or vast
cemetery. They are the very truest American’s. Those American’s are
the reason I stand erect every time I say the Pledge of Allegiance,
smile when I see a veteran hat and want to serve our great country.
A young teenage girl handed out many cards that day, all 47 that she
had handmade and made her hands cramp and markers go dry. Those
smiles and stories coming from her heroes, the veteran’s at her
local VA, made it all worth it and more. Her heart beats the
national colors. Memories of talking with veterans remind her
constantly why veterans are important. When she looks at that flag,
her eyes mist over with grateful tears that never fall and her heart
swells with pride. That girl is me. Veterans are our country’s
essence and core. Without them America wouldn’t be America. It would
no longer be that country that people dream about living in.
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