Think about all the man and women fighting in the service every once and a while. Think about the average day they must go through and what they have to face each and every day of their tough careers. While we stress about money and weight, they stress about the country and dieing to soon without saying goodbye to their families. What would it be like to fear for your life with every move you made? What would the emotional and physical weight of fighting for your country do to you? And what about the people at home worried about you? Think of it this way....



I often send my father a letter, I do it every week on Tuesday and Thursday right after school. He is fighting in Iraq with his men and helping to protect our country, and I couldn't be prouder of him in any way, even though I have fear in my heart for every second he is not here.



I do not get letters back in return though, because of his placement in Iraq and his movements in the country. They are never exact so the letters i send, have no guarantee of getting to where they need to be. I still hope though in my heart, that he knows I am thinking about him when I get a good grade on a test or am sitting at my stocking on Christmas with my baby brother, on his first Christmas. When I heard Christmas shoes being played from the radio, I thought of my father, and instead of shoes I though boots. I just hope he knows that I love him, wherever his men lead him or wherever he may be fighting. I hope he knows that I prey for him every night, and that I've kept his promise that I'll take care of my baby brother and my mother. And I hope he's thinking about me too...



Every day I come home from school, I always stop at the mail box to see if there may be something from him. There never is. Each time I close the lid to the mailbox, a piece of my heart breaks, but my hope doesn't. It is as strong as our country's flag in the blue sky and as strong as my fathers coming home bear hug.' Even so, each time I walk to my front steps with a tear on my cheek.




One day I come home and after checking the mailbox (nothing) I head inside to find my mother crying. The baby in the crib was crying too. I knelt down beside my mother and hugged her, one of those great big bear hugs my father used to give, before I asked her what had happened.



Then I wished I had never walked in the front door.



"Daddy won't come back." She sobbed, and a piece of paper fluttered from her hands. I was scared and my heart felt heavy, but as I've learned to do with the absence of my father, I held it together and didn't show weakness.



Your husband, and beloved father won't be joining you for his next break. I'm very sorry Mrs. L., but Dan has died fighting for our country. He was a close friend of mine and we grew close with the time we spent together fighting. He is a wonderful friend and I'll always love him. I'm very sorry, but the letters sent have only just found there way to our present base and he has not read them. But I happen to have a whole bunch of letters he has stacked up that he was planning on sending back to you soon.

We were together when he died, and he gave me some orders that I must keep for him. We had just finished a short battle and were heading back, but we failed to notice a man coming at us and it was too late for him. The guns and men started going off as I dragged him to the sides, and he told me my orders.

He said I must come home and take care of his wife and children, because he loved them so much and had fought for their safety before the country's. He said to love you, as he loved the country he protected. He said to fight for you, as I fought for him. He said to protect you, as I had that night. He said to treat you as if you were my family, because I had yet to experience one myself. But in his last breath he gave me the most important order, and said to remember to fight for the things you believe in and to give something you believe passionately the best of your gut, and that strength comes in many different forms. Those were his last words. I understand by them time you get this letter it will be too late for a funeral, but its alright because he'll be buried in DC with the other men who believe the same things and have fought for the same reasons. I hope to meet you soon.

































































Paul



My daddie won't give me hugs anymore, but even in his last breath, he was thinking of mommy, me, Benny and his country. I let the tears fall freely, as daddie had said, strength comes in many forms, and I felt better to cry. Strength is dealing with things, and I would definitely deal with this. For daddies sake and mommies, I won't let daddies story stop where it had stopped on the battle field.





With that in mind tonight, think of those who are fighting a prey for those who have lost their lives for us in war. Make everyday a day for the Veterans. Use your strength to make our country strong and use you faith to have trust in the army. Remember them on the holidays when you get only a few gifts, because they have nothing to get and no family on Christmas, and yet are giving you the greatest gift you can give. Your freedom...