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Patriotic Stories

Operation: Write To Freedom will be posting patriotic stories from our members, family and friends. If you have such a story, please email it to us!

Newly posted photos are on our Photos From the Front Page.(updated 4/13/05)

Cookies For All!

In the spring of 2003, many members of a local Illinois homeschool group purchased Girl Scout Cookies to send to the military overseas. They obviously arrived!

Below: Major SK helps distribute the cookies.

Below: Christmas comes to Iraq, as shown by Michelle! Members of our group donated Christmas trees and decorations to military overseas.

Flags in the Trunk

Last summer, as my daughter and I were coming out of a grocery store, I saw a guy with leg braces and crutches, leaning up against his truck in a handicapped parking space. He was a large, muscled man, kind of scruffy looking in the face, with a patriotic bandana on his head. Tough guy for sure, I thought. His clean white pick-up truck was painted all over with patriotic flags and designs. Definitely tough guy. On the back door of his truck, in fancy lettering, it said something similar to U.S. Citizen by birth, Veteran by Choice.

It hit me like a brick wall. It was very moving to me. I don't know why, exactly. Maybe because we don't realize what a gift it is to be born in this country. But, he, realizing it, chose
to give a gift back to his country, and obviously lost the use of his legs because of it. He was very sweaty, red faced, and looking somewhat heat stricken. This tough guy, now, I felt sorry for him. Maybe out of some guilt, too. I don't know. Guilt because he was a veteran, probably wounded in a war, and still proud enough of his country to show more patriotism than I.

I went to my car and loaded the groceries into my trunk, as usual. I couldn't stop thinking about him. While loading groceries, I spotted flags in the trunk that my brother had sent me from Operation Enduring Freedom. They'd been flown on a bombing mission over Afghanistan. He'd sent them for my daughter's Brownie troop, and I had a few extra. My brother was a veteran. Thank God he still has use of his legs. I said a little prayer of gratitude, and another for his safe return home. I closed the trunk and got into the car.

I couldn't stop thinking about that guy. I drove around to him, stopped the car, got out, and said to him, "Are you ok?" since he looked a little faint. He said someone was in the store getting him something to drink, he was just very hot. "Can I do anything for you?" I asked. He assured me that his friend would be out soon, "No, thank you, ma'am."

I was about to get in the car and drive away. But, I stopped at my trunk, got out one of those flags, and turned to him, "I see you're a veteran." "Yes, ma'am. Vietnam." I handed him the flag and said, "I don't know if you'd want this, but, my brother's a veteran and overseas right now serving this country. He sent me this flag which was flown on a bombing mission over Afghanistan. Would you like to have it?" He took the flag and looked up at me with tears in his eyes, "Yes, ma'am. Yes, thank you. Thank you, ma'am." He had tears in his eyes, now running down his cheeks. I said, "Can I give you a hug?" "I'm all sweaty" he said, but, reached his arms out. "Thank you, ma'am. Thank you," he just kept saying over and over.

In his eyes was the look of a man having come home to a country that rejected him for sacrifices none of us are called to make for our country. And HE was thanking ME! With tears in his eyes, this man was thanking me. I said, "NO, I am the one to thank you. You have
given more than I ever can." "Thank you, ma'am , thank you," he just kept muttering. With that, I left, a changed person because of it

.I don't know, I'd like to think that with just one small display of appreciation, I might've helped heal a wound that this man's own country gave him, a wound far greater than the loss of his legs. Maybe it's silly, I don't know. But, by the look on his face, by the tears running down his cheeks, I can tell that this was something this man needed, and probably every veteran in this country needs.

An interesting note, take a look at the handicapped parking spaces as you pass them. Those cars often have some marking on their plates signifying that they're a veteran, maybe even a purple heart. Maybe their handicap is from a war wound, maybe it's just old age, a veteran of a war so long ago, almost forgotten by many. What would it take to walk up to someone getting in or out of their car from a car marked "veteran" and say, "Are you a veteran? Thanks."

Such a little thing...like a little American flag. Such a little thing. If you see a veteran, just offer a little thing. Just a little thanks. See if your little words can help heal an old war wound.

God bless you all, and God bless this free country,
Susy K.