Christmas Night

Well, Christmas has come and gone...or is it came and went? At any rate, my brothers and I here had a wonderful day...capped of by a "fireside chat" on our back porch. By "porch" I mean of course a few fold-up chairs from our local Wal-Mart with some strategically placed sandbags and our burn barrel. What is it about fire that elicits conversation? I have no idea, but our rendezvous on Christmas night was no exception. If you are hoping to read about daring missions, feats of heroism and overcoming overwhelming odds in the process...do read on.

There are so many experiences that we all have had here. Many of which we keep repressed in that little place in the mind behind the door labeled "Off Limits". I however, was content to just sit back and listen. The conversation, as it often does, gravitated toward family and home. And as I stared at the glow of the fire, all I could think of was my Father. He and I used to sit our back yard during the cold months and have a fire very similar to the ones that my brothers and I had on Christmas night. "It's not cold enough son." As a boy, I remember these words from my Father would take the wind out of my sails. Because, you see, it was during those times sitting beside a fire with my Father that I felt like he would open his "Off Limits" door to me and teach me so much about becoming a man; a lesson which I am fairly certain he never knew he was teaching. I am reasonably sure that if you asked him, he would tell you that it was a insignificant event, but it is without a doubt, one that I will never forget. My Father was sitting there with me on Christmas night, and in my silence, he was teaching me just as he did when I was a boy.

You know, - and this is my own personal opinion which you are free to disagree with if you so choose -, but I think at times I get more credit than I deserve. People thank me for fighting this war, when the people they need to thank are my parents for instilling in me a love and appreciation for our freedom, for our country, for our fellow man and for our God. They were the brave ones who went against the tide of parenting "experts" who preached the sermon of first and foremost, being your children's friend. They were the ones who made more sacrifices for their children than I could even begin to write about. Yes, they are the ones who deserve the thanks and admiration for without them, I would not be the man whom I've become...and the man who is now fighting on behalf of his fellow man.

America owes a hearty thanks to the parents of her sons and daughters. The men who made our country great would undoubtedly agree.