Happy Veteran's Day!

"I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was war?" ~Eve Merriam

"Lord, bid war's trumpet cease; Fold the whole earth in peace." ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

"It is easy to take liberty for granted, when you have never had it taken from you."
~Dick Cheney

Today is Veteran's day. Veterans' Day is holiday formerly observed in the United States as Armistice Day in commemoration of the signing of the Armistice ending World War I. November 11Th officially became Veterans' Day on May 24, 1954, by act of Congress. A lot of people get Veteran's day and Memorial day confused. Memorial day is for decorating the graves of love ones who have died. Veterans day is to Honor the Surviving Soldiers who have stood in defense of the Untied States. For many years the Vietnam Vets were the largest group of Veterans. It is now estimated that the Veterans of the current war will equal if not surpass the number of Veterans from any previous war.

My brothers, David, Jimmy and Reuben are all Veterans. My Husband Dave, is a veteran. Dave's Dad was a veteran; as is My oldest son Anthony and my nephew David. Two of my Brother-in-laws, Lawrence and Lennie, are also veterans. Both of My Mom's brother's, Robert and JC, were veterans. I have lots and lots of friends including both Artie and Chris who are veterans. My brother Reuben reminded of the fact that we come from a long line of veterans. Thanks Reuben!


Some of America's most famous entertainers, such as Clint Eastwood and Tony Bennett, started their career in the armed forces. Before they were famous, many celebrities served in the U.S. military. And famous veterans, such as Tony Bennett and Montel Williams, developed and honed their talents while in the service. These famous veterans are proud to have served their country and most credit their success to the lessons learned while serving. The list of entertainers who have spent time in in service to their country also includes Bob Feller, the legendary pitcher for the Cleveland Indians; Actor, Director, Screenwriter Alan Alda; and Comedian, Actor, Author Bill Cosby. As we celebrate Veterans Day this year, we remember all service members (famous and non-famous) who have served this country. We thank them for defending our rights. And protecting the lives of each of us.

When I was a little girl and even into my teen years we would, every once in a great while, go out to eat after Church on Sunday afternoon. We didn't go to a local restaurant. We didn't go to a fast food joint. We would all load up and drive to Augusta. Where way in the back, between the shoes and the knitting thread, we would all line up and go through the lunch counter line at the K-Mart's diner. There was always an old man there that Daddy said was a Vietnam veteran and Mama said not to look at. Mama was afraid of him I think.

I would sneak looks at him trying to see if I could see what made him frightening . I often got caught looking at him and would get in trouble. He was a stranger and in some ways he was strange. He always wore a black vest with all kinds of badges and buttons on it. He wore holey blue jeans and wore out shoes. He had a dog leash with no dog and just gave the general impression of being not quiet right. He had an American flag sewn crooked across the back of his vest. Sewn on by his own hands I imagined. I spent a lot of time imagining back then and no matter how hard I tried not to look at him, my eyes would go to him again and again.

Years later when I was almost grown I saw him again in the Regency Mall, sitting in a wheel chair then, in the center of the mall still smiling and laughing with his "dog gone" and a few newer stuffed animals in the chair with him. Still wearing his vest full of badges and buttons. This time I got close enough to him to see into the deep sparkling green of his eyes and there, I saw that he had lived through many trials and tribulations. I even spoke to him but it was not until I was turning to walk away and catch up with my friends that I spotted hanging just above his heart Two of the Military's highest honor Badges. The Purple Heart and the Bronze Star.

I gave him a big hug that day, praying that Mama wouldn't somehow catch me. He smiled and patted my hand and with a laugh he told me that he sure was glad that I had stopped by for a visit. Mama would have tore me up if she had caught me but I was thrilled to have met him. I often think about him even now. I'm sure he died long ago But something about him touched my heart and made me look twice and even more at him. I can't even imagine what he must have gone through in service to this country, But I'm sure it was no walk in the park. You don't get those medals for walking in the park! Today I am sharing two poems that I wrote about soldiers. I hope you enjoy them. If you know a veteran thank them today for giving their all to defend those of us who live here in America! Have a wonderful day!
Patsy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soldier's Prayer

Lord

Hold close

Your children.

Our Pains eased

By your loving touch.

Give us strength to endure.

Wisdom and courage each day.

Keep Our loved ones safe from harm.

Oh Lord, Let our Deaths be not in vain.

Lord Watch over us as the winds of war

Blow us onto paths we fear to walk alone.

We know you walk beside us every day.

Never Forsaking us as we trod.

Let us return home full of pride.

Having served Our Country.

And Our God with Honor.

Hold us safely now

within your hand.

Amen!

Written By:

Patricia Sawyer

2-6-2008

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just One Time

Just One time Lord

I would like

to wake in the

first morning sunshine

without a cloud of dust

swirling into red and gold dunes

of sand!

Just

One time, Lord

I would like

to kneel and pray

for my family and my

fellow soldiers without my

weapon waiting at ready within

my hands!

Just

one time, Lord

I would like

to smile at a child

or a beautiful young woman

without the fear that they conceal

a bomb to explode as soon as they get close

to me!

Just

One time, Lord

I would like

to spend a day here

in this war torn Land

without looking over my

shoulder for an unseen enemy

waiting for his best chance to

kill me!

Just One Time, Lord

I would like

to Walk with My wife

and my children and feel again

whole and pure and freshly clean.

As if I had never smelled the stench of death.

Just one

final time

Lord

Before I die

here in this

war Ravaged place!

Written By:

Patricia Sawyer

3-9-2008

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for your information~ A "dog gone" for those who don't know is a dog leash with a collar, stiffened with a wire hidden inside. When you walk the collar will swing and sway and it's little bells will ring as if the collar restrains an invisible dog. for a funny story about my own personal "dog gone" be sure and look back to my post called a Double Dog Dare! Thanks!

Patsy

The Children of Uganda

“The children of Uganda are asking for survival, they are asking for peace.”
~ from the Invisible Children documentary

"They abducted all five of us boys at the same time. I was the fifth one. . . . We were told by the LRA not to think about home, about our mother or father. If we did, then they would kill us. Better to think now that I am a soldier fighting to liberate the country. We were all tied up and attached to one another in a row. After we were tied up, they started to beat us ; they beat us up with sticks.” ~from a twelve year old child in Uganda who was abducted

“If a person dreams alone, it remains nothing but a dream. But when a people dream together, that dream can become a reality." ~ African Proverb


Today's Poem is for the children of Uganda who have been, for many years, surviving every day life in a war torn world. Many of them were kidnapped from their families and forced to become tiny soldiers for "This Lord’s Resistance Army" led by Joseph Kony. For years war has raged in Uganda. The Resistance army against the government. The government promised it's people protection but found itself to be helpless when It came to the actual Protecting of it's people. War in itself is bad, but this conflict has been going on for 20 years with no resolve in sight. Thousands of children have been robbed of childhood and, in many cases, of life itself. Boys and girls are turned into ruthless killers who no longer feel, but are numb inside, and their souls have become seared by the awful things they have seen and have been forced to take part in. Children 10 years old are taught to kill, often beginning with their own families. Others are killed and a child is allowed to live and then the child is ordered to kill to stay alive. The children who do escape, will never be the same again.

Some kind of peace has existed in the North of Uganda for about two years now , but the scars of war still remain where so much anger and violence have been for over 20 years. Over 30,000 children were abducted from villages and schools. Kidnapped children were brainwashed to kill, rape, torture, often times their own families. Rage and fear ruled there for many years, where 2 1/2 million people are refugees in their own country, living in crowded camps, packed into pitiful housing, lack of farming space, lack of hospitals, doctors and so much more that we take for granted each day. We don't realize how lucky we are. Our children cry out for new clothes and fancy cars. Those children cry out for Life. Please remember these children in your thoughts, your dreams and your prayers. Their are many different organizations who collect money for the needs of the surviving youth . Give if you can! Be thankful! Have a wonderful day.
Patsy

http://www.childrenburdencentre.org/partnership.html



I Dare to Dream

Sometimes I dare to dream
of grasslands where
we ran free. Laughing.
Playing together before
the fall of darkness.
Singing with our brothers
the songs of children.
Happy songs. Life songs.

Sometimes I dare to dream
of my mama's face.
A smiling face. Trusting
me to tend the babies
or to go to the well
for water. Sending me
to do things for her.
Her dark eyes following.

Sometimes I dare to dream
Of sleeping in my family's hut.
Of sleeping at night instead of running
and hiding from those who would
snatch me from my family's care.
The ones who would demand I kill or be killed.
Who would torture even the smallest.
Our stolen childhood their greatest joy.

Sometimes I dare to dream
of an education. Worthwhile
things to teach to the young ones,
instead of the things
I have been forced to learn.
How to live and not kill.
How to love without hate.
How to touch without shame.

Sometimes I dare to dream
that I am still just a girl
that I have never killed another
that I have never bit my lip
to keep the screams inside
as I am taken again and again
passed from soldier to soldier
as a prize they are forced to receive.

Sometimes I dare to dream
But I always wake up
still here in my war torn land
where the lives of children
are gobbled up by the twisted
souls of evil men who cherish not
the laughter of the little ones.
Who would reach into our heads
and take away even our dreams.

Yes, Sometimes, I dare to dream!

written by:Patricia Sawyer
10-14-2008

Story Telling Day!

"It's all storytelling, you know. That's what journalism is all about."

~ Tom Brokaw~

"The storytelling gift is innate: one has it or one doesn't. But style is at least partly a learned thing: one refines it by looking and listening and reading and practice - by work." ~Donna Tartt~

Today is Storytelling day. I thought about several different ways of doing this blog today but decided to share one of my old stories. I hope you enjoy my story!

Something Old; Something New
A story By Patricia Sawyer.

Lisbet sat with her back against the wall and watched the leaves fall through the broken window. The sun was going down and soon another day would be gone. She wondered how many days she had been sitting here.

As the sun faded away behind the clouds the shadows slowly settled around the room. They covered the leaves piled under the window, and then the train tossed on the sagging old reading table. Finally even the tiny metal soldiers, marching in their crooked lines across the toy chest, were hidden in the darkness.

Lisbet was very sad. Every night she would sit awake and remember when she was new. Her dress had been Baby blue satin, fit for a princess. Not this untidy scrap she wore now. Her long dark hair had been braided neatly and tied with shiny blue ribbons instead of hanging dirty and tangled as it did right now. She had even worn shoes on her tiny feet and a snowy white bonnet on her head. But most of all Lisbet had a girl back then. A girl of her very own to love and share secrets with. As she drifted off to sleep she wondered how much longer she would have to wait. She wished she could be "New" again.

Lisbet woke just as the sun was peaking over the tree tops. She knew it was still early and wondered what had awakened her. She looked all around the dim dusty attic. The leaves were still piled under the broken window. The cobwebs still hung wispy, white in the corners. The train was still on the table and the soldiers were still marching in their crazy, crooked lines. Everything looked the exactly the same. Then she understood. It wasn't something she could see. It SOUNDED different! She heard voices! She wiggled close to the edge of her shelf trying to hear better. It had been so long since she had heard voices! "Oh MY goodness!" she said to herself, "Maybe I will be new again!" She was certain she heard the ring, ring of a phone, and the clang clang of pots as someone cooked breakfast. She hadn't seen a breakfast in a long long time. She could feel her doll heart beat with excitement. Then she heard a loud slam and everything was silent again.

Lisbet sat back against the wall and began to think that she had just been dreaming. She had hoped that a family had come here to live in the old house once again. A family with some boys for the train and the soldiers. A family with a girl for herself. In the early morning quietness Lisbet was even sadder. " Just a stupid dream!" she thought. All day Lisbet watched the clouds float by and thought about her dream. She had been certain that she had heard sounds from downstairs.

CLONK! CLUMP! PLUNK!

"What was that?" Lisbet wondered. She looked at the old train. It was still as before.

CLONK! CLUMP! PLUNK!

" I know I heard it then !" she said. She looked at the soldiers. Their lines didn't seem nearly so crooked all of a sudden.

THUMP..... THUMP......THUMP.....THUMP....

She knew it! She knew someone was coming. Someone was climbing the old staircase hidden in the upstairs closet. Someone was coming up to the attic. She was so excited she could barely sit still. The rusty bolt scraped as it slid back. The old hinges squeaked loudly as the door was slowly pushed open.

Lisbet quietly watched the child standing in the door. He wore an old tattered baseball cap and faded jeans. As he gazed around the darkened room he tossed a ball into the air, catching it in his other hand. "Ma! Come quick!" he yelled as he ran out and down the stairs. "A boy," thought Lisbet. "Just a boy! But at least Mr train and the soldiers will be new again, " she whispered. "remember me," she said to her friends.

"Look ma!" said the boy as he flung the door open toppling half of the soldiers. " Look at all this neat stuff! Can I have it?" he asked. "Well, we did buy the farm, so I guess whatever was left here belongs to us too," Said Ma. Ma told the boy to bring everything downstairs.

Lisbet tried to be brave as the Boy carefully untangled the old train. " some fresh paint and you'll be good as new." he mumbled. Next he tucked all the soldiers into a big old hatbox. "I sure like the way these march," he muttered to himself. Now standing almost directly below her. Lisbet had closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see her friends leave her alone.

As quick as a wink Lisbet's legs were Jerked from the shelf and she was falling. Falling right into the open arms of the BOY! " And for you," said a soft voice in a whisper, "first a bath and then some new clothes. My Other dolls will like you just fine." "OH MY!" thought Lisbet. " A Girl! Not a boy at all! Just a girl who likes trains and soldiers and DOLLS! Finally another Girl to Love.

Finally a girl of my own!"

Later Lisbet sat on the ruffled bed in the downstairs bedroom. She had been scrubbed clean as a whistle. That's what the girl had said. She was wearing a pretty new dress of pink satin. Ma had even found a tiny black pair of of shoes for her at a store in town.

She looked above the bed to the shelf where Mr. Train sat on a section of track beside a newer train. The paint really had made him look good as new. Next she looked over the window sills where the soldiers marched in straight neat lines along with some newer soldiers. They looked like a royal army marching in step across the windows. With all the dust gone, they too looked good as new.

Finally, Lisbet looked happily at the pink cheeked little girl sleeping there beside her. "Thank you!" whispered Lisbet, "Thank you for taking us away from the dark dirty attic." And as she closed her glass eyes for a night of Dolly dreams she whispered, "Thank you for making something old; something New again!"

I hope you enjoyed My story. for story telling day. I wrote this story October 8, 1986 for an assignment for a children's story writing class. I hope you enjoyed it. I love to tell stories. ask my family they will tell you it's so. Happy storytelling day. If you have kids or grand kids or maybe even just a friend. Tell them a story today. Let your thoughts free to share. And hopefully someone will share their own story with you. Have a great day!

Patsy