The Very First "Thank You"

said 38 months ago Edit · Delete · Permalink · 2 Comments

William, the Soldier and the Very First Thank You

I had this story posted on my online journal and I thought I'd move it here. I hope you like it.
My son William began playing baseball when he was six. He turned six in April 2002, seven months after 9-11. I live in Savannah, Ga.a city with a heavy military population. Hunter Army Airfield is here and Ft. Stewart is only about 35 minutes away.
September 11, 2001, was an eye opening day for me. September 12 was a wake up call.
In the days that followed I saw more and more activity as far military things go. More helicopters flying over, more trucks on the road etc. Only when I began to see friends and neighbors going away did it really hit me. Only then did I understand and respect the sacrifice and commitment of our military. I watched fellow parents deploy and leave their families. They left to go an unknown land with the heavy burden of sorrow of a nation on their shoulders. I watched children cry for their daddy. I watched children reach for their mommy. I've never felt so helpless and useless in my life. My own children began to ask questions. Why did Logan's daddy have to go away? I did my best to explain something that I didn't understand myself. But I told them that we should be grateful to men like Logan's daddy. That he was willing to go and fight the "bad guys" so that we could be safe. And each time we saw a soldier we should tell them thank you. Well, one afternoon after a baseball game William (my son) and I were sitting in our car in the mall parking lot. My husband and daughter were inside and we were waiting on them. Well, William spots three young soldiers coming out of the mall. And he yells, " look momma! There's some soldiers! Can I go say thank you?" I told him he could so I got out and walked to the back of the car. I watched my six year old in his little league baseball uniform run over to these young men in their uniform. They were getting into their car and didn't really appear to understand what he wanted. One of them took the time to bend down to him, then I saw my son looking up at him. The young soldier took my son's hand and shook it. To see these two, a child in his baseball uniform and this young man in the uniform of his country was an overwhelming sight to witness. As tears rolled down my cheeks I realized that I had just seen what it truly means to be an American.