A Proud Marine

Today is Memorial Day, a day set aside to remember those that have died preserving freedom for our beautiful America. My family and I decided to travel to Galveston; enjoying the holiday by spending time together near the Gulf of Mexico.

The water was just gorgeous - a deep blue, that special blue that seems the ocean's own particular gift to our eyes. And there were whitecaps, breaking over the sandbars, whose tan shadows lay just beneath the surface of the waves.

We ate at one of our favorite restaurants, which is located on the sea wall. Part of the dining room is all windows, offering a "gull's eye view" of the water; and we talked and enjoyed the seascape as we ate our supper.

Soon, a family came and sat down at the table next to us; one them an older gentleman, who chose the seat that placed his back towards us. He was wearing a black leather vest with several different embroidered decals, and I glanced at them, reading each one as I ate.

The emblem nearest the edge of the vest was embroidered in white thread. In an understated way, it marked the gentleman as a "Proud Marine", and I felt a surge of emotion as I studied it. One of the reasons that each of us lives our life in freedom is because of men like this stranger, a man whose name I do not even know, a man that I will probably never see again. A man whose face was not even visible to me as he sat there, waiting for his order, in a small restaurant near the sea.

To me, he is a symbol of all of the brave men and women in our Armed Forces; men and women whose names I do not even know, the majority of whose faces I will probably never even see. But I can be thankful for them. And I can pray for them and their families; not just on Memorial Day, but often.

There was only one thing for me to do as we finished up our food, gathered our things, and started to walk away. "Sir," I said softly, "I noticed from your vest that you are a Marine."
He chuckled. "Well, not any more, but I was." "Thank you for your service," I said. "I appreciate what you have done for our country, very much." He smiled, thanked me for the kind words, and I left the dining room and went to the car. As we drove away, I sat thinking about how that a perfect stranger made my holiday special. Because our paths crossed, Memorial Day was made more meaningful to me.

And I'm thankful for the opportunity that was presented to me, today, as well. Though it was very inadequate, I was able, in a small way, to say thanks. And that's a memory that I will treasure, forever.