A few weeks ago when I went to see my grandma, we strung the car through needles of endless country roads until we were drawn like taut thread to her hometown. Twenty miles from the building that now holds the sum total of her life, Prinsburg swells from the earth, a mere blip on the radar of Central Minnesota.
Yet those calling that swollen mound “home” are passionately patriotic and zealous for God, things obvious to any passer-by. Despite barely holding the doors to the cafe open and holding onto just two churches and a well-stocked gas station, this town has a breathtaking Veteran’s Park. It is rather amazing that a community of less than 500 could–would–honor the fallen in such splendid form. I had never seen this park before, but seeing it in May…and finding the name of my grandpa…was terribly moving.
May this Memorial Day be cause for you and me to stop and pay attention:
- to the numbers of dead climbing higher
- to the families broken, those missing the birth of a child, and those missing years of life at home
- to fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters never returning
- to kids without a dad, without a mom
- to wars that wage until we scarcely remember why they’ve begun
- to loss and victory, to threats and to safety
- to all who have paid it all, paving the way for our freedom