To Whom Do You Owe Your Life?

Today's post is another one penned by guest blogger John Galt. I hope this one makes you think and appreciate.

To whom do you owe your life?  I’m not talking about the couple that shared a private moment; I’m taking about the people that made the world that you live in.  Some escaped oppression to seek promise in the New World.  Everyone has a family story of how they got here.  What about the people that risked everything to start again and again when crops or businesses failed.  The inventors and the dreamers.  And remember the soldiers that marched off to war; mere boys to start the march and the men that came home.  And sadly, those that didn’t.  The world you enjoy was shaped by all the little pieces contributed by everyone that came before you.  In a time where so many live in the world of “I”, our world is so much bigger than just you.

When you find yourself frustrated when an old man or woman walks too slow, or repeats a story again and again, find patience in your heart and think about how they may have influenced this world you call home.  My pastor’s story in the Christmas Eve service was about the couple, Joseph and Mary, who were turned away from the inn the night Jesus was born.  Later, he mentioned Hall of Famer Hank Aaron’s story about a full hotel and how he was told that there were no rooms available until someone recognized him.  The clerk told Hank he would have given him a room initially if he had known that he was somebody.  Hank replied that everyone is somebody.  Everyone you meet is somebody.  Collectively, all of those somebodies have made the world that molds your life. 

My dad didn’t look like someone extraordinary, but he was.  Mom thought he hung the moon and since I look like him, I’ll admit he was a very good looking man.  He never put on airs.  He wasn’t one to tell stories about himself or boast of his accomplishments.  Actually, he hardly ever spoke of himself.  But, from very humble beginnings, he put himself through college, earned a Bronze Star in Korea while fighting on the 38^th parallel, educated farmers for 34 years on ways to improve their crops as a soil conservationist, and raised three kids to respect America, honor our word and strive to make this world a better place.

 

He’d give you the shirt off his back, pull you out of a ditch or give you his last dollar.  My dad really was a somebody.  And not just to me and my family.  He saved soldiers’ lives in Korea when he carried the wounded to safety.  As an expert marksman, he taught other soldiers how to shoot.  He saved farmers’ farms by making them productive.  More than once, he pulled a car out of the ditch on a snowy night.   The list is just too long, but you get the idea.  He made a difference in so many lives.  You wouldn’t know it to meet him and he wouldn’t take credit for any of it.  It was just the right thing to do.

My dad represents everything good about this country.  He quietly marched through his life, silently performing good deeds along his journey.  I see him every time I see the US flag fly.  He wasn’t just somebody, he was a hero; he made this world a better place.  So, if you find yourself in an “all about me” moment, ask yourself if your actions will make you anyone’s hero?  And before you push your way past the old man struggling with his burden, remember that he is somebody.  Maybe just the somebody that made the life you enjoy possible.