In the presence of greatness.
Today was one of those days.
Today was a day I expected little and was rewarded beyond words.
I was asked to accompany a group of my students to volunteer at the Veterans Hospital for an appreciation party. They asked for volunteers to escort the residents of the veterans nursing home to a bazzar type event followed by picnic food and a dj. I was so proud of 15 of my students to attend on a Sunday. I peddled the event as a "resume improvement" to the students.
I KNOW we all got so much more than that.
When we arrived we were told that each student would be assigned a resident to push their wheelchair, or walk with them throughout the event and then bring them back to their rooms.
I so wish I could have taken pictures of the students interacting with these men.
I spoke to two students that cried at how affected they were to spend time with our Vets.
One student had never been in a nursing home, and cried for their apparent loneliness. I cant tell you how many Thank Yous we got for being there.
"these guys dont get many visitors so yur students have made a huge impact on them today,"
"Please come back soon."
The one gentleman I sat and chatted with is a WWII veteran. He was in the Army and was in France and Germany. He was injured twice. He told of his time underwater while his buddys were drowning from the weight of their clothes and guns. He had tears in his eyes while he spoke to me. I held is hands. Why he told me such heart wrenching stories when we hardly know one another Ill never know.
I shook lots of hands and thanked these old men for their service. They lived the lives of the greatest generation. They are sitting in hallways and kitchenettes watching tv.
I saw men wearing hats---
Army Navy Marines.
Ship names.
Vietnam Vets
WWII vets-
Some with smiles and eyes as bright as 20 year old boys, with bodies that are tired and weak.
One gentleman was wearing an irish cap, plaid and bright.
Rosy full cheeks, blue eyes to match only our own blue eyes.
As I walked down the rows of wheelchairs shaking hands and chatting he held my hand as I told him how smart he looked today. He smiled brightly with charm unbridled and said, "I dreamed of a beauty like you visiting me today so I wore my GOOD hat!!"
How proud I was at that moment that I could smile and kiss him on the cheek without crying my heart out.
I saw men close to my own age.
I saw a young man not much older than our Danny Boy.
He is a resident. He is apparently strong and healthy but SOMETHING is terribly wrong. He was kind and generous. He helped me push a man in a motorized wheelchair when the wheelchair decided to not work anymore. Which is very heavy by the way. I thought he was a visitor. He was not.
HE WAS NOT A VISITOR.
He is a BROKEN YOUNG SOLDIER.
As I was the supervisor for my 15 students I made "rounds" to check on them all, see how they were holding up.
Most were awesome, chatting, helpful, generous, kind.
Some were scared, nervous, anxious and understandably so.
There were vendors, there were many giving away gifts to the vets ex, tshirts, hats, sweats, coffee cups, toiletries, writing paper etc, local AMVETs, American legions, motorcycle clubs, Vietnam Vet clubs, many vendors at least 70.
Each group shaking hands, smiling filling their bags full of STUFF.
Older women giving out hugs to men they apparently have known a long time.
"Oh Jack, how are you? Its been such a long time!"
"Hello Marion, you look so pretty today."
then my broken soldier...
going through his bag of shampoo, body wash and t shirts with the Phillies phanatic 2010.
As I admired this beautiful young man, a vendor from the Vietnam Vets table approached me.
He said- to me-
without knowing anything about me or my family.
"Those boys from Afghanistan, are coming home far more broken than even we were."
I'm sorry to my family for saying this, I dont want to hurt or scare anyone, but this is the truth told to me.
Tonight I sit here on my bed with my perfect sleeping boy next to me. His sweaty swampy body just oozing All American BOY.
These soldiers, sailors, marines were and still are someone elses All American BOY.
From the old men with sparkling eyes.
The Alzheimers patients that had no idea where we were or what we wanted to do with them.
The sick, sick guys that couldn't leave their rooms that we brought bags to.
The middle aged lost souls that had that long ago far away look in their eyes.
And the broken boy.
Our broken boy.
All of our broken boys-what they need I dont know. I would give it to them.
I left something there today, I was rewarded with bigger things than money.
That doesnt happen often outside of home.
It felt good to help, a little.
I liked helping my students grow a little.
I liked feeling small, in a room full of greatness.
Now to wrap this up,
I am praying for our broken one, that he finds peace in his mind and soul.
That his broken spirit comes back to a healthy place,
so he can someday look back on THIS day as a necessary day,
to get him to where he needs to be...
back to a real place,
with people that love him a little scratched and dented.
where his quiet place can be peaceful,
where his tired lonely days can be ended with a prayer and thoughts of a brighter tomorrow.
I do pray for that soldier tonight,
the one at the VA,
the one in the sand,
on the water, in the air,
at home, or in a bunk somewhere hot and lonely.
I pray for them, if that helps anything, anywhere.
I hope it helps them.
Its all I can do right now,
other than cry.
Today was a day I expected little and was rewarded beyond words.
I was asked to accompany a group of my students to volunteer at the Veterans Hospital for an appreciation party. They asked for volunteers to escort the residents of the veterans nursing home to a bazzar type event followed by picnic food and a dj. I was so proud of 15 of my students to attend on a Sunday. I peddled the event as a "resume improvement" to the students.
I KNOW we all got so much more than that.
When we arrived we were told that each student would be assigned a resident to push their wheelchair, or walk with them throughout the event and then bring them back to their rooms.
I so wish I could have taken pictures of the students interacting with these men.
I spoke to two students that cried at how affected they were to spend time with our Vets.
One student had never been in a nursing home, and cried for their apparent loneliness. I cant tell you how many Thank Yous we got for being there.
"these guys dont get many visitors so yur students have made a huge impact on them today,"
"Please come back soon."
The one gentleman I sat and chatted with is a WWII veteran. He was in the Army and was in France and Germany. He was injured twice. He told of his time underwater while his buddys were drowning from the weight of their clothes and guns. He had tears in his eyes while he spoke to me. I held is hands. Why he told me such heart wrenching stories when we hardly know one another Ill never know.
I shook lots of hands and thanked these old men for their service. They lived the lives of the greatest generation. They are sitting in hallways and kitchenettes watching tv.
I saw men wearing hats---
Army Navy Marines.
Ship names.
Vietnam Vets
WWII vets-
Some with smiles and eyes as bright as 20 year old boys, with bodies that are tired and weak.
One gentleman was wearing an irish cap, plaid and bright.
Rosy full cheeks, blue eyes to match only our own blue eyes.
As I walked down the rows of wheelchairs shaking hands and chatting he held my hand as I told him how smart he looked today. He smiled brightly with charm unbridled and said, "I dreamed of a beauty like you visiting me today so I wore my GOOD hat!!"
How proud I was at that moment that I could smile and kiss him on the cheek without crying my heart out.
I saw men close to my own age.
I saw a young man not much older than our Danny Boy.
He is a resident. He is apparently strong and healthy but SOMETHING is terribly wrong. He was kind and generous. He helped me push a man in a motorized wheelchair when the wheelchair decided to not work anymore. Which is very heavy by the way. I thought he was a visitor. He was not.
HE WAS NOT A VISITOR.
He is a BROKEN YOUNG SOLDIER.
As I was the supervisor for my 15 students I made "rounds" to check on them all, see how they were holding up.
Most were awesome, chatting, helpful, generous, kind.
Some were scared, nervous, anxious and understandably so.
There were vendors, there were many giving away gifts to the vets ex, tshirts, hats, sweats, coffee cups, toiletries, writing paper etc, local AMVETs, American legions, motorcycle clubs, Vietnam Vet clubs, many vendors at least 70.
Each group shaking hands, smiling filling their bags full of STUFF.
Older women giving out hugs to men they apparently have known a long time.
"Oh Jack, how are you? Its been such a long time!"
"Hello Marion, you look so pretty today."
then my broken soldier...
going through his bag of shampoo, body wash and t shirts with the Phillies phanatic 2010.
As I admired this beautiful young man, a vendor from the Vietnam Vets table approached me.
He said- to me-
without knowing anything about me or my family.
"Those boys from Afghanistan, are coming home far more broken than even we were."
I'm sorry to my family for saying this, I dont want to hurt or scare anyone, but this is the truth told to me.
Tonight I sit here on my bed with my perfect sleeping boy next to me. His sweaty swampy body just oozing All American BOY.
These soldiers, sailors, marines were and still are someone elses All American BOY.
From the old men with sparkling eyes.
The Alzheimers patients that had no idea where we were or what we wanted to do with them.
The sick, sick guys that couldn't leave their rooms that we brought bags to.
The middle aged lost souls that had that long ago far away look in their eyes.
And the broken boy.
Our broken boy.
All of our broken boys-what they need I dont know. I would give it to them.
I left something there today, I was rewarded with bigger things than money.
That doesnt happen often outside of home.
It felt good to help, a little.
I liked helping my students grow a little.
I liked feeling small, in a room full of greatness.
Now to wrap this up,
I am praying for our broken one, that he finds peace in his mind and soul.
That his broken spirit comes back to a healthy place,
so he can someday look back on THIS day as a necessary day,
to get him to where he needs to be...
back to a real place,
with people that love him a little scratched and dented.
where his quiet place can be peaceful,
where his tired lonely days can be ended with a prayer and thoughts of a brighter tomorrow.
I do pray for that soldier tonight,
the one at the VA,
the one in the sand,
on the water, in the air,
at home, or in a bunk somewhere hot and lonely.
I pray for them, if that helps anything, anywhere.
I hope it helps them.
Its all I can do right now,
other than cry.
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