Rachael Rachael, a mom of two daughters, is a freelance editor and writer who enjoys gardening and dreams of keeping chickens in her suburban St. Louis backyard. In her spare time, she helps to edit her husband’s science fiction books. Read more of Rachael's work at www.rachaelsjohnston.com or contact her by emailing rachael@mumblingmommy.com.
Photo via weheartit.com

“I can’t believe I got to actually meet people who fought in wars,” my 7-year-old daughter told me. Last weekend, Megan and I went with a group from our church’s children’s ministry to visit the Missouri Veterans Home in St. Louis. Every year when Veterans Day nears, the kids from church make cards and goody bags with candy to hand out to veterans in the nursing home there.

For Megan and me, it was our first visit. It was a bittersweet experience greeting people who are in the twilight of their lives, knowing they carry meaningful memories and stories and yet seeing how their bodies, and sometimes their minds, have deteriorated.

Veterans Day

We climbed off the church bus, split into small groups in the lobby, and fanned into the hallways to meet residents sitting in common areas. I watched the kids figure out how to interact with people. Many men responded with small smiles, a nod of their heads, and a “thank you” when the kids held the goody bags out to them. Some were napping and we left bags and cards nearby for when they awakened. Others were unable to respond or simply were not aware of their surroundings. The kids weren’t always sure what to say or do. One girl in our group had the idea to simply step up to each man, look directly at him, and say loudly and clearly, “Thank you for your service!”

We walked farther into the labyrinthine building, past intriguing exhibits of small, live birds and down hallways decorated with pictures of people from a different time: Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, and women in 1940s-era bathing suits.

“Why are there so many boys and hardly any girls living here?” my daughter asked.

“Because in their generation, mostly men served in the military,” I said. “Nowadays a lot more women serve, too.”

We met a man who is grandfather to some of our church members. He explained how he served in the Navy toward the end of World War II, but the war ended before he saw any real action. I told him my late grandfather had a similar experience in the Navy. My grandfather’s ship was leaving the Pacific coast headed for Japan when World War II ended. I said, “My family likes to joke that they heard my grandfather was coming and decided to surrender.” I learned later that this man feels bad that he “never did anything” during the war, and I was told my grandfather’s story likely made his day.

It was an opportunity for our group to recognize the lives offered in service to our country. So much of our history lives in the residents of that veterans home, and in veterans across the country. We were just one group passing through briefly, but hopefully we were able to brighten the day for a few of these people.

To all the veterans on this veterans day, thank you for your service.  

 
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