WIFE'S REQUEST
I was sitting alone in one of those loud, casual
steak houses that you find all over the country.
You know the type--a bucket of peanuts on every
table, shells littering the floor, and a bunch of
perky college kids racing around with long neck
beers and sizzling platters.
Taking a sip of my iced tea, I studied the crowd
over the rim of my glass. My gaze lingered on a
group enjoying their meal.
They wore no uniform to identify their branch of
service, but they were definitely "military:"
clean shaven, cropped haircut, and that "squared
away" look that comes with pride.
Smiling sadly, I glanced across my table to the
empty seat where my husband usually sat.
It had only been a few months since we sat in
this very booth, talking about his upcoming
deployment to the Middle East.
That was when he made me promise to get a sitter
for the kids, come back to this restaurant once a
month and treat myself to a nice steak.
In turn he would treasure the thought of me
being here, thinking about him until he returned
home .
I fingered the little flag pin I constantly wear
and wondered where he was at this very moment.
Was he safe and warm? Was his cold any better?
Were my letters getting through to him?
As I pondered, high pitched female
voices from the next booth broke into my
thoughts.
"I don't know what Bush is thinking about.
Invading Iraq. You'd think that man would learn
from his old man's mistakes. Good lord. What an
idiot! I can't believe he is even in office. You
do know, he stole the election."
I cut into my steak and tried to ignore them, as
they began an endless tirade running down our
president.
I thought about the last night I spent with my
husband, as he prepared to deploy. He had just
returned from getting his smallpox and anthrax shots.
The image of him standing in our kitchen packing
his gas mask still gives me chills.
Once again the women's voices invaded my
thoughts.
"It is all about oil, you know. Our soldiers
will go in and rape and steal all the oil they
can in the name of 'freedom'. Hmmm! I wonder how
many innocent people they'll kill without giving it a
thought? It's pure greed, you know."
My chest tightened as I stared at my wedding
ring. I could still see how handsome my husband
looked in his "mess dress" the day he slipped it on my
finger.
I wondered what he was wearing now. Probably his
desert uniform, affectionately dubbed "coffee
stains" with a heavy bulletproof vest overit.
"You know, we should just leave Iraq alone.
I don't think they are hiding any weapons.
In fact, I bet it's all a big act just to
increase the president's popularity. That's all it is,
padding the military budget at the expense of our
social security and education. And, you know what
else? We're just asking for another 9-11. I can't say
when it happens again that we didn't deserve it."
Their words brought to mind the war protesters I
ha d watched gathering outside our base. Did no
one even appreciate the sacrifice of brave men and
women, who leave their homes and family to ensure
our freedom?
Do they even know what "freedom" is?
I glanced at the table where the young men were
sitting, and saw their courageous faces change.
They had stopped eating and looked at each other
dejectedly, listening to the women talking.
"Well, I, for one, think it's just deplorable to
invade Iraq , and I am certainly sick of our tax dollars
going to train professional baby-killers we call
a military."
Professional baby-killers? I thought about what a
wonderful father my husband is, and of how long
it would be before he would see our children again.
That's it! Indignation rose up inside me.
Normally reserved, pride in my husband gave me a
brassy boldness I never realized I had. Tonight one
voice will answer on behalf of our military, and let
her pride in our troops be known.
Sliding out of my booth, I walked around to the
adjoining booth; and placed my hands flat
on their table. Lowering myself to eye level with
them, smiling I said, "I couldn't help overhearing
your conversation. You see, I'm sitting here
trying to enjoy my dinner alone. And, do you
know why? Because my husband, whom I love with all my
heart,is halfway around the world defending your
right to say rotten things about him."
"Yes, you have the right to your opinion, and
what you think is none of my business. However,
what you say in public is something else, and I will
not sit by and listen to you ridicule MY country,
MY president, MY husband, and all the other fine
American men and women who put their lives on the
line, just so you can have the "freedom" to complain.
Freedom is an expensive commodity, ladies. Don't
let your actions cheapen it."
I must have been louder than I meant to be,
because the manager came over to inquire if
everything was all right.
"Yes, thank you," I replied.
Then, turning back to the women, I said, "Enjoy
the rest of your meal."
As I returned to my booth applause broke out. I
was embarrassed for making a scene, and went back
to my half eaten steak. The women picked up their
check and scurried away.
After finishing my meal, and while waiting for my
check, the manager returned with a huge apple
cobbler a la mode.
"Compliments of those soldiers," he said. He also
smiled and said the ladies tried to pay for my
dinner, but that another couple had beaten them to it.
When I asked who, the manager said they had
already left, but that the gentleman was a
veteran, and wanted to take care of the wife of "one
of our boys."
With a lump in my throat, I gratefully turned to
the soldiers and thanked them for the cobbler.
Grinning from ear to ear, they came over and
surrounded the booth.
"We just wanted to thank you, ma'am You know we
can't get into confrontations with civilians, so
we appreciate what you did."
As I drove home, for the first time since my
husband's deployment, I didn't feel quite so
alone. My heart was filled with the warmth of the
other diners who stopped by my table, to relate
how they, too, were proud of my husband, and
would keep him in their prayers.
I knew their flags would fly a little higher the
next day.
Perhaps they would look for more tangible ways to
show their pride in our country, and the military
who protect her.
And maybe, just maybe, the two women who were
railing against our country, would pause for a
minute to appreciate all the freedom America offers,
and the price it pays to maintain it's freedom.
As for me, I have learned that one voice CAN make
a difference.
Maybe the next time protesters gather outside the
gates of the base where I live, I will proudly
stand on the opposite side with a sign of my own.
It will simply say, "Thank You!"
To those who fought for our Nation: Freedom has a
flavor the protected will never know.
GOD BLESS AMERICA!
Please pray for God's protection of our troops
and HIS wisdom for their commanders.
"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands.
Protect them as they protect us.
Bless them and their families for the selfless
acts they perform for us in our time of need. I
ask this in the name of Jesus, our Lord and Savior."
This can be very powerful.
