Never Forgotten
“Mary, come quick,” said Veteran Phil to his wife, his voice filled with excitement. “Our new neighbours are moving in next door.”
“Oh, that is the young military family,” said Mary, peering out the kitchen window with curiosity.
“Military,” repeated Phil, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting!”
“Yes,” said Mary. “The husband has been deployed overseas, and his wife and young son are moving next door.”
“It will be nice to share military stories with the husband,” said Phil, a nostalgic smile forming on his face. “Once he is home, that is.”
There was a knock on the door, and Phil and Mary were kindly greeted by a bright young man with bushy hair and a tattered pair of overalls.
“Mom asked if she could borrow a cup of sugar,” said the young man, politely, his eyes sparkling with friendliness.
“Of course,” said Mary, getting up from the table and going to the pantry, her movements graceful and welcoming.
“So you must be Veteran Phil,” said the young man, his voice filled with admiration. “My dad is in the military.”
“So I heard,” said Veteran Phil, his chest swelling with pride. “I served in the war, too. What is your name?”
“I am George Jr.,” said the young man, shaking Phil’s outstretched hand with a firm grip. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” said Veteran Phil, his eyes twinkling with warmth.
Mary returned with a cup of sugar and a platter full of cinnamon cookies she had baked that morning, the aroma filling the room.
“Thank you,” said George Jr., his face lighting up with gratitude. “That is very kind of you.”
“My pleasure,” said Mary, her smile genuine. “Why don’t you and your mom come for lunch? I have a big pot of soup, and we can have some sandwiches.”
“Make it grilled cheese, and you got a deal,” said George Jr., his eyes gleaming with excitement.
George Jr. and his mother showed up for lunch. Both were tired and worn out but hungry, their faces showing signs of a long day.
“We appreciate the warm lunch,” said Stacey, George Jr.’s mother, her voice filled with relief. “We just had a muffin for breakfast. No time to eat with the moving truck at our old home very early.”
George Jr. ate three grilled cheese sandwiches and a huge bowl of Mary’s soup. When he was finished, he helped Mary clear the table while Phil and Stacey talked. It turned out that Phil knew Stacey’s father from his military days.
“Dad passed about five years ago,” said Stacey, her eyes misting with memories. “He always talked about the military.”
“I bet George Jr. loved hearing his stories,” said Veteran Phil, his voice soft with understanding.
“He sure did,” said Stacey. “He looked up to Grandpa and wanted to be in the military just like him.”
“Sounds like it is in his bones,” said Phil, nodding appreciatively.
“Definitely,” said Stacey, her smile proud.
“It is very refreshing to see such a polite young man,” said Mary, her voice filled with admiration. “That is very rare.”
“It is,” agreed Stacey. “George Sr., his father, is very strict with him—not mean, just strict.”
“George Sr. sounds like a good military man,” commented Veteran Phil. “Every child needs a good upbringing.”
“I agree,” said Stacey, her voice firm.
Stacey and George Jr. left to finish unpacking, and Veteran Phil and Mary were both very grateful to have good, honest neighbours.
As they prepared to leave, Veteran Phil placed a hand on George Jr.’s shoulder. “You know, son, I think you’re carrying on a fine tradition. Your grandfather would be proud.”
George Jr. beamed with pride, and Stacey’s eyes shone with tears. “Thank you, Veteran Phil. That means a lot coming from you.”
As they said their goodbyes, Phil and Mary felt a sense of hope and renewal wash over them. They knew that the next generation was in good hands, and that the sacrifices of those who served would never be forgotten.
Moral of this Story:
|
