Thursday, October 20, 2016

I'm So Proud of Her

Well, if we can all just hang on 18 more days, maybe our country can begin to decompress from this incredibly long and volatile election season.  It just seems like there's so much tension in the much division in our country.  I talked about this a week or so it can all start to affect you if you let it.  I understand that the American Psychological Association has found that half of us are suffering from a condition which they've named "Election Stress Disorder".  Gee, I can't imagine why, can you?    

Today, I decided to share an old post from 2014 because (a) I've been too busy to write much this week and (b) in hopes that, for a few minutes, maybe we could soothe our election-weary brains and remember that the more unified and constructive side of us does still exist.           

I'll admit it.....I'm pretty much a news junkie.  I think it's so important to stay informed but being apprised of all of the goings on can also have its downside, too.  Sometimes, it feels like I'm only hearing about the bad side of America and her people.  Story after story of hate, deceit, greed, and every form of disregard for human life imaginable.  Child neglect.  Illicit affairs.  Fraudulent lawsuits.  Injustice.  Murder.  Molestation.  Drugs.  Corrupt politicians.  Discrimination.  Theft.  Cruelty.  Mass shootings.          

I know all of that exists, but I want to tell you about the America that I see every day.  She's the one who rarely makes the headlines. 

That America has been filling up sandbags and boarding up windows ahead of a hurricane.  She's the family fostering a child who was abandoned and needed a home.  She's the large group of volunteers who gather to find a missing child.  She's the man who pays the bill for the car behind him in the drive through. She's the van, full of willing hands, that pulls into storm ravaged towns.  She's the prayer service that meets to lift up a sick friend to the Great Physician.  She's the stranger who chases the purse snatcher.  She's the neighbor mowing the widow's grass when she's not home.  She's the jar full of dollar bills on the counter at the gas station.  She's the car that stops to help change the old man's tire.  She's the little, white girl and the little, black girl who don't see color when they look into each other's face.

She's the one who turned in the money that she found. She's driving an elderly friend to the doctor.  She's the group of guys who volunteer to take the disabled vets hunting.  She's the doctor, nurse, and dentist spending their vacations in a hot, primitive tent helping patients halfway around the world.  She's the plane load of food and medical supplies flying over the oceans to desperate situations.  She's the group of children caroling outside the elderly couple's door.  She's the missionary, who left the comforts of home, burdened for people she's never met and who don't even speak her language.  She's the man who offers his seat on the subway. She's the fund set up at the bank for the family of the fallen police officer.  She's the one who pulls over for the hungry dog by the railroad tracks.  She's the guy who takes up time with the boy without a father.  She's the lady who gives one of her kidneys for a friend.

She's the firefighter who ran up the same World Trade Center stairs that everyone was clamoring to get down.  She's a gym full of cots and warm food when the storm blows.  She can be found scooping green beans onto a lunch tray at the soup kitchen.  She's the disabled soldier who left his cover to save a comrade.  She's the volunteer who spends his Saturday working to build a home for a needy family.  She plays the piano for the patients at the nursing home.  She's the boy who holds the door open a few extra seconds for the lady coming in behind him.  She's the one cooking a meal for her neighbor with cancer.  She can be found digging through bricks and twisted lumber, with his bare hands, hoping to find survivors.  She's the truck loaded with Christmas shoeboxes traveling dusty, remote trails lined with poor children.  Her name is on the bone marrow donor registry.  She's the stranger who stays with the wreck victim until help arrives.  She's the soldier who stoically guards the body of the Unknown Soldier no matter the conditions. 

She's the mother who takes out the trash and throws a baseball while her husband is deployed.  She's the table full of casseroles and pies delivered to the family in grief.  She's the man who jumps in to save a little girl from drowning.  She's the boy who stands up to the bully for his friend.  She's the scout leader who spends a lot of his weekends on a cot instead of a golf course.  She's the fish fry that benefits the sick, little boy.  She's the box full of canned goods at the school's food drive.  She's the man who builds a ramp for his disabled neighbor.  She's the present under the tree of a child who wouldn't have gotten one otherwise.  She's the underpaid teacher who stays late to help a student.  She's the rescuer who won't give up the search for the child missing in a flood.  She's the five dollars handed out the car window to a homeless man.  She's donating sick leave to a single mother with a chronic disease.  She's the childcare worker who loves her class like they are her own.   

She's the PTA.  The little league coach.  The red kettle full of quarters and nickels.  The church with open doors on a cold night.  The blood donor.  The check written to Make a Wish.  The volunteer fireman.  The anonymous donation. The mentor.  The Eagle Scout.  The quilts made for patients on the cancer floor.  The bake sale.  The driver for Meals on Wheels.  The prayer list tucked in a Bible.  The Sunday School teacher.  The family who takes a card from the Angel Tree.  The volunteer at the children's hospital.  The poll worker.  The care package sent to a soldier.  The dad working three jobs.                                           

That is the America I know.  That is who she is to me.

And I'm so proud to call her home. 

Even still. 

Good may not frequent the news.  There's not much air time available for what is good and decent but, for our own mental health and for our spirit of unity, let's not forget that it's there.  Alive and well and living among us. 

Y'all have a relaxing weekend!    

1 comment:

  1. This post is a reminder there is good and caring people in America. Light a candle and pray for our Country ( by the way, I've been hearing that alot lately ).
    Have a beautiful Fall day Joni
    Kathleen in Az