Don't Blame the soldiers and don't forget the soldiers

As I stand here in the cemetery looking out over the rows of graves with the Veteran's Star on them I am reminded of a big field of wheat.

So many markers, so many headstones, so many stars.

So many lives that were altered or cut short by war.

So many stalks of wheat cut down in their prime.

Some came home to a grateful public.

Some came home to an indifferent or hostile public.

Some had a choice to serve and protect; many went because of their sense of duty.

Whether you agree with the wars of the past and present, remember the soldiers.

Like so many pawns on a deadly chess field they marched out to an uncertain future and many paid the ultimate price.

Most did it for their loved ones and the land they loved.

Patriotism seems dangerous and unfashionable these days doesn't it.

In my nearly 50 years I have never see a country so ready to abandon and forget the principles that made it great.

We are so sophisticated and jaded that we believe that our leaders all lie to us.

And they have done little to assuage our fears.

Yet down through the centuries men and women have gone to the far corners of the earth to do the bidding of their country's elected leaders.

While other countries languish in the middle ages of warlord style governments we continue to prosper and be free.

Millions still come or try to come to our shores for that singular promise of freedom.

All I can say to you is freedom is not free, and it never will be. It is my sincerest prayer that our leaders use our resources both human and material wisely.

Not too long ago I was wandering in one of the many places where newly developed homes meet centuries old farmlands.

Yes, even in my previously rural area "civilization" encroaches.

As I tracked through the forest following a creek that disappears and reappears from the ground over and over again as it winds its way to its mother river I came across a small stone enclosed grave yard.

In this area of the country it is customary for families to stay on their farm land for centuries. They bury their dead from each generation there in small family plots.

You still see them dot the country side and sometimes they sit in the middle of a development.

That breaks my heart.

This one still remains hidden in the woods of what was obviously once a big farm owned by one family.

I was drawn to the little graveyard and entered only to find I was standing on fallen head stones that were faded to the point of being illegible.

Some dated back to the late 1600's.

They were probably not in English either as far as I could tell.

There amongst the surprising number of head stones was a marker for one young man. He had given his life for his country in the Revolutionary War.

Every time I think I have it hard I wander out to this solitary place and I am reminded of the sacrifices that millions of men and women have made for centuries so that I can walk in peace.

May it always be so.

Remember our soldiers both live and dead.

So many stalks of wheat.

And don't forget to tell them all "Thank you!"

Best in a Happy Memorial Day,

Dr Dave