An Observation for Memorial Day

Thirteen years ago, my daughter was born. We welcomed her in our own family way, and had no fears of wandering armies snatching her, nor of her being butchered in genocide because of our faith.

We named her as we chose, and had to submit to no government whether or not she would have siblings. We have taught her to read and to think, and she has grown freely. We take her with us to vote, and we have taught her to speak her mind.

She has access to firearms, freedom to be educated, and faces only the normal American worries of traffic, crime, and taxes.

That’s the life she knows.

And it’s not because I make enough money to bribe out the problems.

It is because hundreds of thousands of men and women have shed their blood and given their lives for that freedom. From those killed on the battlefield, to those fathers and mothers who never came back from training and security missions in a war that was cold in name only, to those who seek the enemies of freedom to this day.

On behalf of a teenager whose biggest concern today is cheesecake and barbecue, thank you. As a father who could not provide the security you have given, thank you.

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