SACRIFICES, by m.e.

All day she worried, it was her nature. But being a single mom with 3 children left no choice but to push forth. Her middle child, Harold, 18 years old; was signing up for war. What drove him she was not sure.

The country needed him more but as a mom she was not sure; letting go is not as easy as closing a door. It takes time and effort for sure.

Harold, 18 years old was searching for more. He knew the score but to prove oneself sometimes you have to soar, seek new latitudes; go for the Prime Meridian, sail through the Sargossas Sea without oars. Never tiring, fearing or worrying for what may be in store.

Mom waited by the door; she worried because she had two more, two more boys. One, 16; the other older but not by much more.

F.D R. on the radio, Mom is all ears and so are her boys. She reaches for a rag to wipe away her tears, as the slow realization reaches her ears. Her three boys are whooping and hollering as they clap hands repeatedly.

Mom sleeps fitfully, she worries about her three. One in the Pacific another in Italy. The third she is not sure neither is the foreign ministry; the talk really is of Germany and possibly captured behind the enemy’s periphery.

Months pass by and today is 1943, here comes a jeep; a chaplain, captain and some non-descript; they have three flags in their mitts.

Sacrifices big and small made daily by the moms of those who fight to keep us free.

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