Freedom Isn’t Free

I have never had the chance to visit the Vietnam War Memorial Wall in Washington DC; so when I heard that the replica of ”The Wall that Heals” was going to be in our area this weekend.  I knew that we had to go.  I was instantly struck by the sheer number of names that were meticulously carved in black granite.  Even on this hot July day, the stone was eerily cold to the touch.  I watched as many took rubbings of the names of friends and loved ones who paid the price for our freedom with their very lives.  Tears began to flow unchecked as I wandered under the tent and saw actual notes and gifts that have been left at the wall over the years.  In those moments, I felt the pain of loss as if those men and woman were my own family members.

I guess when you think about this melting pot of humanity that we call home, we are all family and our surname is American.  God Bless America!

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