Today I was at work thinking about my latest diet and feeling sorry for myself for having to eat such tasteless food. I looked up and standing in front of me was a young man with a strange tube strapped to his face one end running up his nose. He said, and I'm sorry but I had to ask, that it was his feeding tube. He had been wounded in Iraq and no longer had a stomach and much of his intestine. He had a slight limp as he had lost most of his calf muscle in one leg. We talked for awhile and he said the hardest part was the way people looked at him. I said to me it would be not being able to taste food. He said yes, that was pretty bad too. He had spent many months hospitalized in Germany, before he was flown home to San Antonio for a year long stay at the army hospital there. Now his life is spent at different Veteran's hospitals trying to find someone who can help him. I thanked him for his service and told him I would pray for him.
I felt silly thanking him, but I meant it and wanted him to know.
I'm not a peace 'nic or anything, but I do hate war. I hate seeing strong, disciplined, young people going off to war and coming home in pieces. I know they are the reason we live so freely, but I still hate it.
If you think about it, say a prayer for my new friend, Albert, before you doze off tonight. I know he would appreciate it.
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