Courage of the Father for Courage of the Son

A son learns many things from his father.  Among the things he learns is courage.  And this courage is not only that which conquers fear.  It is also the courage to be true to oneself and to one’s own inner compass that is the guide as to what is right and what is wrong.  

Today, as we honor all fathers for Father’s Day, we say a special prayer for Bob Bergdahl.  We are inspired by the courage he has shown in his fight to bring Bowe home.  We know, and can see, that his son has learned to be courageous by this same inspiration.

In remembrance of this day, we share with you a little poem about a son learning to be brave.

Father, Son.

The boy watched the ghosts
on the far side of the valley.
There under the black hill. He
stood by the farm gate and
watched. He was his father’s
son, a brave boy. But his
courage failed. He thought
about his father who he
revered. What would he do?
Should he tell his father?
There are ghosts. I’ve seen
them. They flicker and dance

about down there – and I am
so scared. His father had told
him: I believe what I can see
and touch, in what others proved
by bravery, by hard work.

Hard work. And so this was
hard; to go down there in
the dark, down to the river, under
the black hill. The boy set off.
A last look at the house where
his mother read him stories,
where his father ruled the roost
with his clear sight. It rode like
a ship in the night. He headed

for those shifting lights, chill in
the dark, stumbling over clods,
pants soaked by the drag of
lucerne. I can see him still.
When he got to the pigs, heard
them rooting, snuffling – content
in their sty – he almost turned.
He pushed on though, on trembling
legs, heart pounding fast enough
to die. And so he came to where
the ghosts danced – in triumph
ruled. They triumphed round him,

this clear-eyed son. He looked
around. A mile away cars swung
out at the junction, their sweeping
lights touching river mist. Joy.
He could go home. He could go
home, holding his dad’s hand.

                                                       by John Garth Raubenheimer

Armed Forces Day 2012: The Pride of Our Country

We honor all of those who serve America in America’s Armed Forces.

THE PRIDE OF OUR COUNTRY

Today as before, our brave do fight
For a land they love, a flag so right
 
The pride of our country, yes they are
The strength of our nation, best by far
 
Just as our brave from each war gone by
They march for us proudly, flag held high
 
From all over this land they come to serve
They’re taught by the best, this they deserve
 
When troops give their all, the world does see
Whether serving on land, in the air, or at sea
 
The pride from this country, march through war
With home drawn strength, held deep in their core
 
Our best are so awesome; their loved ones well know
May God guide their journey where they – for us – go
 
What these brave must have is support from their own
The love from their people, firm thankfulness shown
 
Our greatest achievement is that we’re still free
Please take time and ponder who caused this to be
 
by Roger J. Robicheau
 

Steadfast is a Mother’s Love; Remembering a very special Blue Star Mom

May 13, 2012, a day we honor Mothers. We, all of us Bowe Supporters, send thoughts of caring and love to one very special Blue Star Mother, Jani Bergdahl. 

Jani, we wish that we could give you the Mother’s Day gift you want more than anything, your son safe in your arms.  If anything is true this is: we, all of us across America, will do everything in our power to assure that this is the last year you will spend Mother’s Day without your son.  May God Bless you and your family every day and with that special day when Bowe returns home.

A Son

A son is a son
wherever he roams
no matter how far
or the years that have flown.

He may test the darkness
to challenge the unknown,
yet he’ll never be less
than your beloved son.

He may take your soul with him
from sea to sea;
but the child of your heart
he will ever be.

Doesn’t matter the distance
or trials he may know,
he is always ‘your son’
wherever he goes.

~ Carolyn Brunelle

 

SGT Bowe Bergdahl : America’s soldier, America’s son

 

Silent night, holy night,

Where are you dear Bowe tonight?

 

Do you know that we’ve adopted you?

Do you know our hope for you is true?

 

America’s soldier, America’s son.

We hold you close in prayer each and every night

But most especially on this silent one.

 

Our Son

Our Son the Soldier
How great a man he must be
To be joined in the fight to
set another part of the world free

Our Son the Soldier
So very proud of you we are
To all of us who love you,
you will always be our shining star

Our Son the Soldier
So far from home and in a foreign place
Just close your eyes to
see a familiar smiling face

Our Son the Soldier
So very far away
We will all be waiting with open
arms on your coming home day

by Denise Girod

 

 

The War in Iraq Ends – Bring Them Home


The War is Over

American troops are leaving Iraq.  The war has been declared a victory.  We are filled with gratitude that our men and women are coming home, that they are leaving harm’s way behind.  For those of us who have lost a friend or loved one in Iraq, this day is bittersweet.  We are acutely aware of the cost of war.  But now we open our arms and welcome home those who have served with honor and courage. Let us never forget their sacrifice.  May we always show compassion toward them, knowing that there will be battles that some will continue to fight even though they are home. May we never forget the soldier who remains in enemy hands, SSG Ahmed Kousay Altaie.  Let us pray fervently that he too would be brought home; pray that the day will come when we can truly say “no man left behind”.  Let us also use the end of the war in Iraq to spur our efforts to insure that Sergeant Bowe Bergdahl is rescued before the war in Afghanistan comes to a conclusion. May God bless all who were touched by the Iraq War, all who sacrificed. May peace be upon them and give them rest. Δ  

 

Bring Them Home

Bring home my father 
so I can hear his voice as I step to the plate
“eye on the ball son”

Bring home my mother
so she can brush my hair 
and listen to my sorrows

Bring home my sister
so we can stay up late into the night
listening to music and sharing secrets

Bring home my brother
so the bed across my room
is no longer empty but calls out
“Good night bro, 
try not to be so ugly tomorrow”

Bring home my husband
so we can grow old together
holding hands on the front porch swing
in the cool of the evening

Bring home my wife
so I can breathe again
knowing she’s safely in my embrace

Bring home my daughter
so I can walk her down the aisle 
and have the first dance

Bring home my daughter
so I can have the hope of a
grandchild to wrap up in my arms

Bring home my son
so I can make him his favorite meal 
and watch him eat it

Bring home my son
so the family name
does not end 
here

Bring home my father
my mother
my sister
my brother
my husband
my wife
my daughter
my son

Let the war be done

Bring them home

Now.

by Goliath VanDorn