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| MONSTERS OR ANGELS |
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I wrote this a few years back. It has a part two, that I will post very soon. This was also published in a Canadian Vetrians Affair Newsletter. It is a true story that happened to me as a young boy.
Monsters or Angels
I must have been about five or six years of age. It was the late 1960’s. I was living then in Saint John, New Brunswick. My father owned and operated a section of the market in town that specialized in fresh produce, particularly apples.
I was so proud when he gave me my first job one day. Wow! My very first job! I was asked to go and stand in a hospital with a big old wooden tray of apples that hung around my neck.. But holy cow not a bad trade off for the nickel an apple profit I was going to earn. I just couldn’t keep my mind off all the candy I would buy afterwards.
So I stood at my post waiting and hoping for all the old women to come by and purchase my fresh apples. I recall, all the woman touching, smelling, prodding, and doing whatever else old woman do to apples before actually buying them. Some turned my apples away, yet many others just loved them. Could it be, was it just the little six-year old salesman they loved? Regardless, I was on my way to making a candy fortune.
That’s when I heard a loud whistle from somewhere behind me. When I turned around I was never as scared as I was then, as I watched some of my apples fall to the ground. All my six-year-old eyes saw were a bunch of monsters. A bunch of really old men in wheelchairs; some with no arms, some with no legs, some with half their faces gone, and many blind and/or deaf. They were whistling at me to come over to them. Well, hey, I was doing just fine with old ladies, thank you very much.
Finally, out fear, I timidly made my way over to see these monsters. The first one I approached had only one arm; yet he threw that arm out like there was no tomorrow and snatched an apple from my tray. To this day, I still recall wondering which was worse, the big ol’red and white ribbon that supported my tray that dug into the back of my neck, or the size of the goose bumps that were rising, from fear, all over my body. He looked at me with dark eyes and weather worn face and said to me in a deep and very intimidating voice, “How much for this apple young fella?” In a cowering, whimpering voice I replied, “Fifteen cents, sir.”
Looking me in the eye, while simultaneously swirling the apple in his only hand, he said, “I’ll give you no less than a quarter.” And he smiled. I think my eyes became as large as those apples at that moment. From then on these men in wheelchairs became my best friends. They told me stories; they made me laugh and giggle. What’s more they made me feel so good about myself. I wasn’t even thinking of candy or apples anymore. I was just having too much good ol’fashion fun with these men.
It is 2008, and I’m in my 40’s now. Only now do I understand. Only now do I see that these “Monsters” were the men who sacrificed themselves for you and me. I didn’t know it at the time but the apples weren’t the reason they called me over that day. I was, the Little Boy… I was the trophy!
You and I are the reason they lost their lives. Just ask the man with no legs, the man with no arms, the man who lost his sanity, the blind man who lost his sight, yet probably thankful after having to see some of the things he saw in WWII.
They are no longer monster as I saw them as a little six-year-old boy in the 1960’s. They are my heroes! They are Angels in disguise!
They are the men and woman who fought and sacrificed so much for the freedom we have today. I somehow find it sad when we can sit in our cars and have the nerve to yell and scream when we get stuck in a lousy traffic jam or in a long line at the bank, thinking, “Will I make it home in time to watch my favourite television show?” The next time we get stress over our little day-to-day annoyances we might want to think of the 19-year-old kids who sat in a foxhole in France, thirsty with an empty canteen, surrounded by Nazis.
Let us remember the boys who were in the Atlantic Ocean, alone with only a life jacket, because a German U Boat had just sunk their ship.
How can we as Canadians ever become so complacent. Never ever forget the poor mothers and fathers who received the most dreadful notification of their sons’/ daughters’ death. These men and women fought and died for us. FOR YOUR FREEDOM! AND FOR MINE!
To all veterans from all the terrible wars, I will never, ever forget…and I will always be grateful. Thank you!
Tim
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Posted by cap25 on 2009-06-02 02:29:38 | Rating: | Views: 43
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