I used to be so embarrassed when my dad or grandpa would walk up to a person in uniform and say, 'Thank you.' I thought it was awkward. I thought it would annoy that person waiting at the gate for their flight home or the flight taking them too far from home. I thought that they probably didn't want to hear it.
But as I look at these girls and think about their fragile little lives all I want to do is say thank you. I feel so grateful to be able to raise these sisters in a country where good men and women are willing to risk their lives to protect them--that they are shielded from harsh realities other babies are born into around the world.
And thank you doesn't seem enough because, really, it isn't enough. 'Thank you' can't begin to cover the danger they put themselves in, or the hurt a family feels when theirs is lost, or the milestones and moments that are missed while they are away serving a public that too often takes them for granted.
I pray that someday these girls will remember to say, 'Thank you.' That they will not live a life feeling entitled to this freedom they have. That they will realize the sacrifice behind it. I pray that I can raise them to be patriotic and proud. That I can model for them a life lived worthy of the sacrifice. That they will live worthy of it, too. And that they will always be brave enough to say 'thank you.'
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