I just chatted with an old classmate of mine. We were in the same class for 7 years and did many things together back then.
When I joined the altar servers, he followed suit. And when we had the time, we'd play football together after school. I could still remember the morning we completed the final paper in the public examination. he took out a football and there we were running headlong to the field dressed in our school uniform at 11am. Must have been a sight to onlookers then.
And while we waited out for our results, we went job hunting for pocket money. It didn't take us long to get a job. We became travelling salesman for two months before we decided that it'll best to enjoy whatever was left of our holidays.
We kept in touch and met up whenever we can despite being based in different parts of the world due to our work commitments. As such, we were able to talk things quite freely between us both.
He asked me that with the recent furor over the fatal shooting of a 15 year old by the police, how was my father feeling? Well, dad has been philosophical about it all, preferring to keep his own counsel but intently following the reports closely.
For the record, my dad joined the police force at the age of 18 and remained in service for almost37 years before finally retiring in the early years of the millennium. In his time, he was tasked with hunting communists insurgents as well as foreign pirates for almost 20 years before being confined to a desk job.
I was too young to remember, but I didn't know how mum got through all those days in the past when dad was away from home. Not knowing where he exactly was and not being able to speak to him for months at end. I just thought that I want to share this story with everyone;
When I joined the altar servers, he followed suit. And when we had the time, we'd play football together after school. I could still remember the morning we completed the final paper in the public examination. he took out a football and there we were running headlong to the field dressed in our school uniform at 11am. Must have been a sight to onlookers then.
And while we waited out for our results, we went job hunting for pocket money. It didn't take us long to get a job. We became travelling salesman for two months before we decided that it'll best to enjoy whatever was left of our holidays.
We kept in touch and met up whenever we can despite being based in different parts of the world due to our work commitments. As such, we were able to talk things quite freely between us both.
He asked me that with the recent furor over the fatal shooting of a 15 year old by the police, how was my father feeling? Well, dad has been philosophical about it all, preferring to keep his own counsel but intently following the reports closely.
For the record, my dad joined the police force at the age of 18 and remained in service for almost37 years before finally retiring in the early years of the millennium. In his time, he was tasked with hunting communists insurgents as well as foreign pirates for almost 20 years before being confined to a desk job.
I was too young to remember, but I didn't know how mum got through all those days in the past when dad was away from home. Not knowing where he exactly was and not being able to speak to him for months at end. I just thought that I want to share this story with everyone;
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I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. 'I'm glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will get a short nap too,' I thought.
Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and Filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding me. I decided to start a conversation.
'Where are you headed?' I asked the soldier seated nearest to me. 'Petawawa. We'll be there for two weeks for special training, and then we're being deployed to Afghanistan.'
After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. It would be several hours before we reached the east, and I quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time.
As I reached for my wallet, I overheard soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. 'No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch. Probably wouldn't be worth five bucks. I'll wait till we get to base '
His friend agreed.
I looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch. I walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. 'Take a lunch to all those soldiers.' She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she thanked me. 'My son was a soldier in Iraq ; it's almost like you are doing it for him.'
Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated. She stopped at my seat and asked,'Which do you prefer -- beef or chicken?'
'Chicken,' I replied, wondering why she asked. She turned and went to the front of plane, returning a minute later with a dinner plate from first class. 'This is your thanks.'
After we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room. A man stopped me. 'I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.' He handed me twenty-five dollars.
Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my side of the plane. When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand, and said, 'I want to shake your hand.'
Quickly unfastening my seat belt, I stood and took the Captain's hand. With a booming voice he said, 'I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.' I was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers.
Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another twenty-five dollars in my palm.
When we landed I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!
Upon entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. I walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. 'It will take you some time to reach the base. It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.'
Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers. As I walked briskly to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals.
It seemed so little... after all, these were courageous souls who are writing a blank check made payable to their country, for any amount 'up to and including my life'.
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In writing that blank cheque, I guess I have front row seats for what happens when that cheque is cashed. My cousin's father lost his life when he was just 4 years old some 30 years ago while he protected the country from insurgents during the emergency. And what did he get for it? Virtually nothing... He was never even given any award nor recognition for taking that bullet for his country... That is the price you have to pay for freedom and independence... But it seems that most have a lot of critique about the sacrifices that others put in for us to enjoy the freedom to talk and live as we do...
Spare a thought and a prayer for all those who put their life at risk everyday to protect us all... God bless them
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