In honor and to remember our troops and their families, I offer you 3 different perspectives: a bystander, parents, and a child.
Whenever I see a Soldier Boy
Whenever I see a soldier boy
No matter where it be
I give him salutation
for he means so much to me
He’s not the boy we used to know
In store, at desk or plow
He’s a defender of our faith
He’s in the service now
He keeps Old Glory flying
on land and air and sea
He lives to make our homes secure
He dies to keep us free.
by Sam Miller, 1942
Yesterday We Were Parents
Yesterday we were parents
We were called mom and dad
I sat and watched the news today
How times over there turned bad
A fear welled up inside me
A chill ran down my spine
The USS Cole was bombed
And she held a son of mine
Fear ripped through my heart
As I searched for any news
Part of me not wanting to know
Part needing to know the truth
I called up my husband
And told him what I heard
He rushed right home to hold me
Not able to say a word
We started calling the Navy
Our fate was in their hands
It was her who took him to
That Eastern foreign land
It was his call to duty
To honor, serve and protect
A call to duty so many of us
Now seem too easily neglect
We have to call back later
No answers can they provide
Don’t they realize how that response
Tears me up inside
Now there is a number
For all the “next of kin”
That phrase will forever haunt me
And make my blood run thin
…Yesterday we were mom and dad
for right now we still don’t know
if we’ll ever hear those names
or drown in heartbreak and sorrow…
by Michelle Keim
Commander of Royersford VFW Post 6341 in Pennsylvania
From Reveille to Taps…The Culture of an Army Child and Family”
I never live somewhere too long.
I never planted a tree and watched it grow.
I never know where I will be next week.
I never wore hi-fashion clothes.
I never became “part of the crowd.”
There are other things I’ve never done.
I never was afraid to speak freely.
I never was scared to show my religion.
I never worried about unjust laws being made.
I never left flowers at a loved one’s grave,
who died so I might be free.
I never forget how lucky I am.
by Kimberly Anne Davis, age 14, 2 November 1997
The poems were selected to share from: www.usmemorialday.org
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