“There has to be some way that we can save, those living in
the land of the free, and the homeless of the brave!" ~ Jeff
Rose
To say that Randy was down on his
luck would be a gross understatement.
Once a proud Marine Sergeant, he became a broken shell of himself having
returned from Iraq with both PTSD and a disabling injury. Today he picks through garbage; every piece a
new discovery.
Sometimes only the dead return from combat. When a person experiences the horrors of war
and all its brutality – it’s almost impossible for them to ever believe again
that the world is safe and reliable.
It’s sad really! Like so many
young soldiers, Randy didn’t realize until he returned home from the
battlefield that he’d landed in hell; a living corpse trapped in his mind’s
desolation.
Unable to resume his former life, Terry left his family
behind – all except “Duke,” a stray shepherd who’d “adopted” the family and
quickly became Randy’s constant companion.
They’d been inseparable for years, living the streets, begging for loose
change, and eating from dumpsters.
Then Duke became seriously ill. Randy was forced to leave him at the
veterinary clinic, ashamed he didn’t have the money to put Duke down painlessly. Fortunately for Duke, Dr. Kinsley, a
compassionate veterinarian invested her own money to treat the ailing canine.
Duke survived! So Dr.
Kinsley posted fliers throughout the area searching for Duke’s rightful owner.
Randy’s daughter Alicia recognized Duke from one of the posted
fliers and realized that her Dad must still be alive. Her search for him began immediately. Randy, suffering remorse for deserting his faithful
friend at the vet’s clinic and for leaving his family ten years earlier, prayed
daily for forgiveness.
It was a community of strangers that brought them all back
together again – the wounded Marine, his beloved Duke, and a wife and daughter
who never stopped loving them both.
Finally, the “Land of the Free” returned one of its own triumphantly
from battle.
I’m fortunate. I’ve
never seen a bomb drop or experienced severe hunger. But they have – soldiers like Randy who wear
no fatigues and carry no weapons but push carts filled with their worldly
passions, talking to themselves because no one else listens. Disgraceful
how can we claim to “support our troops” then give them nothing but dirty looks
at their outstretched hands?
Dear Lord, they return to a home that may
never be home again – veterans diminished by things that haunt them forever. Fill me with Love that knows no barrier, with
Empathy that reaches all, and with Faith strong enough for the darkness. Amen
