A tribute to those who served and made the ultimate sacrifice for home and hearth.
There is a statue in our town
Of a man with his fist in the air.
I never really understood
Who he was or who put him there.
Until one day my grandmother
Took me to the park.
She stopped before the statue
And stood quietly in the deepening dark.
Her head was bowed as if in prayer
Yet no words did she speak.
Then she whispered quietly,
Father, meet my granddaughter, Marie.
Your great-grandfather was a soldier
She said quietly to me.
This statue honors all like him
Who fell in battles far across the sea.
Although the light was fading fast
From the plaques she read these words,
“Remember the Fallen Heroes”
In a voice that was barely heard.
I pointed to the other plaques —
Where World War II, Korea, and Vietnam appeared.
Grandmother answered simply,
“The dead of other battles are also honored here.”
For the first time I really saw him,
The statue in the park.
His youthful face was grim.
As he stood amidst barbed wire.
Now I’m explaining to my daughter.
And I hope she understands.
About the sacrifices of the soldiers.
And why, in the park is a statue of a man.
~Till next time. thank you for your service.