Today is election day in the U.S.A. and I just returned from exercising my right to vote. It’s a cold day here and it is raining. The temptation was there ~ to simply forget it and stay in my warm cozy home. Does my vote really make a difference? Will those I vote for do half of what they’ve promised, if elected? Will any good ever come out of our broken system?
I pulled on my boots, put on my hat, and drove to the little church in the country where my precinct votes. As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw an elder pushing her way down the sidewalk with her walker. There was a car parked in one of the handicap spaces with a license plate that read Purple Heart and another that said Vietnam Vet across the bottom. I felt ashamed.
For that Vietnam Vet who sacrificed for me and received no recognition.
For the families of the soldiers buried in Arlington Cemetery.
For the spouse who hesitates to answer the phone in the middle of the night.
For the elders who paved the way for each of us today.
For the little country church that still has picnics and potlucks and just loves on people.
For the homeless who remember a better day.
For the right to have my gun tucked inside my boot.
For my children.
For my grandchildren to be.