Day 1065 Responsibility

 

Not sure how my dad’s war ration booklet survived all these years, but what an incredible slice of history to hold. I love his five-year-old signature and the fact that even at such a young age, kids were aware of the war and understood they had a responsibility to the cause.

We often hear about “The Greatest Generation” during WWII—and I believe it's because every single American played a part. Today’s wars are fought by a few; typically, just 1% of our population actually serves and only 1% of them see combat.  As we sit comfortably at home, surrounded by modern luxuries and an abundance of food, it’s easy to believe war is something distant that can’t affect us. That is, until someone you love is the one overseas, risking their life daily so we can sleep peacefully.

Imagine how differently we might view conflict if we were allowed only one pound of butter a month, or a single pound of sugar for several. I can only imagine the outrage! Don’t get me wrong—I think it’s a gift to live in such fortunate times. But I wish I could pull back the curtain of comfort and ignorance to reveal the sacrifices being made every single day by the greatest of today's generation.

Those who have stepped up to fight, who’ve walked away from the luxuries of home and willingly risked their lives to keep evil out of our neighborhoods, have my deepest respect and unwavering gratitude.

My son had every opportunity knocking at his door—smart, handsome, with the world at his feet. His decision to serve wasn’t born from a lack of options. For some, it’s a calling. And let’s be honest: we’re always more comfortable when it’s someone else’s child who hears that call and makes that sacrifice.

My dad, even at five, was well aware of WWII. He had drills at school for bomb threats, hiding under his desk as if that could protect him from an explosion. He rationed his food and later became a history teacher, then a principal. I imagine growing up during the war helped spark his lifelong curiosity and passion for understanding the world.

This morning, I sit on my cozy kitchen couch, sipping coffee with as much cream and sugar as I please, the fridge full, and the rain gently tapping the windows outside. None of this is taken for granted. It’s all made possible by the sweat, blood, and sacrifice of those who have bravely defended our freedom.

May we never forget that peace and comfort aren’t the default—they’re the reward of someone else’s courage. And may we always strive to be worthy of that gift.