I seem to be on a kick of SUPPORTING OUR TROOPS....
Well I wanted to share this article with you all....it really touched my heart.....I am starting to be able to stay online more...so look for more entries from me....just trying to keep an even keel.
PEACE--Ellie
Monday, November 13, 2006
COMFORTING EMBRACE
Saturday, November 11, 2006
HAD TO SHARE ANOTHER ONE FOR TODAY
Soldiers
The average age of the military man is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's; but he has never collected unemployment either.
He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away.
He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155 mm howitzer.
He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.
He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark.
He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.
He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.
He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march.
He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity.
He is self-sufficient.
He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other.
He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry.
He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle.
He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts.
If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food.
He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.
He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands.
He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.
He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all.
He has seen more suffering and death then he should have in his short lifetime.
He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them.
He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.
He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking.
In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.
Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom.
Beardless or not, he is not a boy.
He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.
He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.
Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.
And now we even have woman over there in danger, doing their part in this tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.
As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot..
A short lull, a little shade and a picture of loved ones in their helmets
Prayer wheel for our military... please don't break it. Please send this on after a short prayer.
Prayer Wheel
"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen."
VETERAN'S DAY
by Michael T. Smith
In the USA, it is known as Veterans' Day.
In Canada, it is known as Remembrance Day.
When I was a youngster, it was just another holiday -- a day
when stores were closed and more importantly, there was no school.
I knew about the war, but I was free to play. I knew people
died for our freedom, but I could sleep in. I knew my parents had
little when they were growing up because of the war, but I had food
on my plate and a day to watch TV. The real meaning of the day was
distant to me.
Years later, my daughter joined the Brownies. The first year
she was a member, I set the alarm to wake us on the morning of 11/11.
She had to participate in a parade. Every Brownie, Girl Guide, Cub
Scout, and Scout had to participate in the parade. It was a day to
remember those who died for our freedom.
My wife and I left our daughter with the Guide leader and
proceeded to the Canadian Legion, where we waited for her. The kids
paraded a mile along the coastal roads of Nova Scotia, carrying their
flags high and proud. We waited for their arrival. Veterans joined
them. Old men, long past the prime. They'd fought in the trenches
and watched their comrades die. Many came in wheelchairs. Some
limped. A few still stood strong.
They walked as proudly as they could to the legion, where a band waited.
The band played, speeches were made, and on the 11th month, the
11th day, the 11th hour, the 11th minute, and the 11th second there
began two minutes of silence.
I looked at the veterans. Their sacrifices allowed us to stand
there that day. They gave us our freedom. The cold seeped through
my jacket. I reached out and held my wife. A tear trickled down my
cheek. For years, I slept as those brave men marched in the cold
November air in remembrance for those who died in battle beside them.
It took my daughter to make me realize the importance of the day.
I never missed another Remembrance Day. Years later, because of
work, I was separated from my family. I was in another city. On
Remembrance Day, I heard there was going to be a service in the city
square. I was in Saint John, New Brunswick. I put on my jacket and
tie, pinned a poppy to my lapel, walked the mile to the service,
stood in the damp cold and watched those brave men once again march
for our freedom.
I don't know if it was because I was away from my family or the
sight of those old men still walking proudly, but the memory of that
service never fades.
The Veterans marched, wheeled, and limped to the city square.
The mayor gave a speech. The two minutes of silence began. At the
end, a bagpipe began to play "Amazing Grace."
After the first chorus, a second bagpipe joined in, along with a
small band. On the third chorus, more bagpipes joined and a brass
band began to play. The building of sound, the magic of the moment
is something I will never forget. The tears filled my eyes that day,
as the blood must have filled the trenches in battle.
That moment burned in my mind forever.
On November 11th, please take a moment to remember those who
fought for our freedom and those that continue to fight for it.
May God bless them all.

Friday, November 10, 2006
QUICK CHECK IN
I am sorry dear friends I have not been around....I have been so severely depressed that I cannot get my thoughts together enough to journal in once in a while...please be patient...I am fighting it all with all I have....it is just such a struggle!!!
I wanted to leave you with this nice graphic poem...came across it and wanted to share...Peace Always--Ellie
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
HAPPY HALLOWEEN
I just could not let this day go by...without wishing you all a very HAPPY HALLOWEEN...may your day be filled with goolish suprises and LOTS of candy...hmmmm!!!
ENJOY DEAR FRIENDS!!!
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
PLEASE WATCH THIS VIDEO
This video made me cry...it just tugs at your heart strings..what an incredible bond of LOVE and DEVOTION.
Monday, October 9, 2006
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