My Little Miracles 5.31.16: Monday Moments in Gratitude Link-up

Sweet friends,

Happy Memorial Day!  I hope you have had a restful, rejuvenating weekend and will have a speedy, short work week.  This is our second-to-last week of school.  I will be busy finishing up lots of little (and a few big) projects at the Guerrero library before I say goodbye.

Linking up with my thoughtful friend Shaunacey for her beautiful “Monday Moments of Gratitude” weekly post. Please be sure to stop by to read her post at SimplyShaunacey.com.  It will be a treat for your heart.  I think of these moments of gratitude as my little miracles as I reflect on them here with you.

I always have so very much to be thankful for but on days like today, Memorial Day, I think it is important to be aware that much of what is good in my life has been fought for and protected by the United States military.

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Of course, I am a little bit partial to a man in uniform…my dad was a paratrooper in the Army and my PC retired after 23+ years of service in the Army.  Thank you, daddy and thank you, Paul Timothy for safe-guarding the American way of life.

So, today’s little miracles post is going to revolve around something pretty moving that happened when PC and I visited the Ft. Bliss National Cemetery this afternoon.  El Paso is a patriotic city, partially because Ft. Bliss Army base is located here but I also believe our patriotism stems from the better life many El Pasoans’ ancestors came to America in search of.  Of course, we have our share – or more – of people who are in this country illegally but El Paso is made up of second and third generation Americans whose parents and grandparents came here for the life our country offers to those willing to work to make their dreams come true.  There were so many families at the cemetery paying respects to relatives and/or complete strangers alike.

My soldier and I pulled into the cemetery, parked and talked about which gravesides we would visit.  Here’s one of the reasons I love my PC. He suggested we visit a section of the older part of the cemetery…because those soldiers were less likely to have a family member or someone else stopping by to remember them today.

I love how all of our Girl and Boy Scouts decorate each headstone with an American flag.  And how about our purple mountains majesties?

One of the first headstones we came to was that of a local hero Ambrosio Guillen, who was killed two days before the end of the Korean War.

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After being killed in action, he was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor.  The veterans’ home in El Paso and an El Paso Independent School District middle school are named for him.  Read more about Ambrosio Guillen, here.

Walking through the area where soldiers who served during World Wars I & II are buried, we came across two headstones with unusual inscriptions.

John Pinnard on the left served with the 95th Balloon Company during World War I.  I had never heard of that before.  Apparently, the balloons were intelligence-gathering, hydrogen-filled balloons.  My PC was also in intelligence.  And is intelligent, for that matter.  Edgar Towles served with a pack train unit where mules were used to transport supplies in World War I.

We paid our respects to  Harry Perlmutter, who also served in World War I and is one of the few Jewish soldiers buried at Ft. Bliss.  PC and I placed stones on his marker ala “Schindler’s List”.  Great movie, by the way, please tell me you have seen it.

As we walked among the older headstones, I noticed a young man – maybe in his late 20s – walking across the way from us with a bundle of green cones in his arms like those in which flowers are placed beside a headstone. He seemed to be looking at the headstones along his path and seemingly randomly selecting some at which to place the cones.  A young boy followed up behind him with more cones in his arms and they continued to walk the section of the cemetery where PC and I had just been.

These are just some of the headstones where the man and boy planted a cone.  Although I have grouped these plots together, they were not side-by-side but just spread over a fairly large area.

I told PC that I wanted to see what, if anything, these headstones had in common in order to try to determine why the man and boy had selected them to receive a green cone.  We waited until the pair were out of sight and started walking back toward the area of the cemetery where we had first started.  Each of the soldiers recognized with a cone was involved in the Korean conflict.

When I looked up, I saw a young family walking onto the cemetery from their parked SUV with bundles of red, white and blue flowers.  It was the man and his son, his wife and two younger children.  They stopped at the first headstone where the father had planted a cone and the mother directed her family in Korean to pose in front of the headstone.

I watched from a distance, beginning to wonder if I could possibly be understanding what was happening here.

And then I approached them and asked in a combination of English and charades, if I could help them by taking a picture of the whole family for them with their camera.  They seemed puzzled for a moment but then realized what I was saying and the mother handed me her phone while the father collected his children again.

The young mother was particularly humble.  And kept her head down most of the time as I took several photos with her phone and then asked (or tried to ask) if I could have one photo with my phone.

I thanked them and they thanked me and I started to walk away.  But I turned back, and very slowly in English I asked if they had family buried there at the cemetery.  The husband paused and repeated ‘family’ then said ‘no, no, family’ and then touched the word KOREA on the headstone for one of the soldiers they were paying tribute to.  In broken but careful English he said that because of these soldiers, his country was free and he was able to come to America as an international student through the military.

I was in tears.  My voice cracked as I thanked him and thanked his wife and children.  Then I asked to hug them.  I am not sure the wife understood anything I said, and now thinking back, it may not be appropriate for strangers to ‘hug’ in their culture.  She wasn’t quite sure what to do.  But she said ‘thank you’ and the children mimicked ‘thank you’ and as I hugged the young father, I fought back tears.

And then, as we walked by to our car, PC and I watched the oldest son walking to the next headstone where they had laid a cone earlier.  He bowed before the stone with respect.  Then rose, and placed flowers into the cone, and bowed again one solemn moment more before moving on to the next stone.

I am certain the soldiers honored by this family were smiling down from their place of eternal peace.

As we drove away from the cemetery, I told PC that I was so thankful that our timing had allowed us to meet this family today.  We had planned to go to the cemetery earlier but got caught up in yard work and house work.  We might have decided to pay respects to the more recently deceased soldiers but we didn’t.  I am again reminded that there are no coincidences, such things are just part of the plan for our lives.

I will never forget that family or this afternoon.

Hugs and kisses,