You have likely seen the newspaper articles that started around the time of Remembrance Day. They pointed out the real need for some of our forgotten veterans at that time, who were in need with respect to rent, and / or food to tide them over. It is scandalous at best that this situation should continue in our country, but it does. An Just this past week we heard of three Canadian young men who were suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, who never got the help they needed. They had all served in the service in our “Peace Keeping” forces in the Mid East. For these men it was too much to bear, and they committed suicide.

Our guys and gals in uniform deserve a lot better than that. Upon returning from active service, some kind of follow up needs to take place so that when P.T.S.D. is identified, steps can be taken to provide the help that is so necessary. Some of these people have seen more horror and terror in an hour, than most of us will experience in a lifetime. Three young men’s lives wasted for lack of doing the right thing.

In keeping with the thought of our fighting men, at this time of year, I got the following piece from an old sweat who coincidentally lives in our condo complex. It was a good poem, and deserves to be read by others, Check it out.

  A Different Christmas Poem
      The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
      I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
      My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
      My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

      Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
      Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
      The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
      Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

      My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
      Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
      In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
      So slumbered I, perhaps I started to dream.

     The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,
      But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
      Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know, 
     Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

     My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
      And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
      Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
      A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

      A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
      Perhaps a Trooper, huddled here in the cold.
     Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
      Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

     "What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
      "Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!
      Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
     You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

      For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
      Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts.
      To the window that danced with a warm fire’s light
     Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,

      I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night."
      "It’s my duty to stand at the front of the line,
      That separates you from the darkest of times.
      No one had to ask or beg or implore me,

      I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
      My Gramps died in Europe on a day in December,"
      Then he sighed,
      "That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers."

      I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while,
      But my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.
      Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
      The red and the white … A Canadian flag.

      I can live through the cold and the being alone,
      Away from my family, my house and my home.
      I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
      I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.

      I can carry the weight of killing another,
      Or lay down my life with my sister and brother.
      Who stand at the front against any and all,
      To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

      "So go back inside," he said, "harbour no fright,
     Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right."
      "But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,
     "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?

     It seems all too little for all that you’ve done,
     For being away from your wife and your son."
     Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
      "Just tell us you love us, and never forget.

     To fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone,
      To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
      For when we come home, either standing or dead,
     To know you remember we fought and we bled.

     Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
    That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our Canadian service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities.
Let’s try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe.
Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.


Imagine all the people living life in peace.  You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.  I hope someday you’ll join us, and the world will be as one.

John Lennon

There is nothing funny that I can possibly add to todays blog.

Have a Great Day, and be kind to one another.

Ross Smile


About techmech

Older type, enjoys computer, cruising, photography, fishing, travel, good food and movies

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