Memorial Day

To commemorate the holiday, the SMYA group went to three of the local convalescent homes to sing patriotic songs to the residents. At every location, we asked if there were any veterans or veteran's wives in the audience, and what branch they belonged to. My brother and I would then sing (with characteristic gusto) the anthems of the various branches. They loved it all. The singing. The attention. The young, enthusiastic people.

As I made my way around the room to visit with all of the people individually, one man grabbed my arm and pulled me down low. He was wearing a red polo shirt, which I noticed had "U.S. Marine Corps" embroidered on it. He held tight onto my hands and half-whispered, "Thank you."

This man, who had fought four long years in World War II for his country, sacrificing his time, energy, comfort, happiness was thanking me for singing to him. This man, who would have given his life for his country, was thanking me for coming to see him on that beautiful Sunday afternoon. For a moment, I was at a loss for words. My often-repeated, "You're very welcome, I'm glad I could come sing for you..." speech seemed inappropriate for the occasion. I thought for another moment and said, "No, thank you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me." He smiled and said, "Well, little miss, we wanted to do it for you. It was really our pleasure."

So to those men and women who knowingly and willingly lay their lives on the line every day for me: thank you. It isn't enough to say it. You deserve so much more. But thank you, from the bottom of my heart.