Last Tuesday there was a surprise box of donations filled with Christmas Care Package items in our mailbox along with the following letter that we would like to share with you~
Dear Service Member,
My name is Marina and I am 30 years old, married and family on both sides—lots of fun and drama at the same time. I am sending care packages in my father’s memory, who passed almost a year before, and who was giving everything, the shirt on his back if need be, to others in need. My father was a great man, an eye surgeon in a country called Romania in Eastern Europe. By making many people see with pro-bono surgeries for poor people and good prices for those with money, my father made me “see” what a rich feeling it is to love and care for others. He gave me and my brother somewhat of a military education when we were growing up, which we came to understand and appreciate in later years. I have never seen so many flowers in my life like I have seen on his grave and at his funeral, brought by a mass of people.
I am a counselor. I have been working with children with special needs for over 12 years, now going into my internship in this country to get licensed here—and switching to elderly. Not as big a leap as it may seem—just an upgrade. It’s time for me and God showed me my next step.
This letter is not about my father though. And it is not about me. Or my family, or my lifestyle.
This letter is about you. By choosing to be there, to sacrifice yourself to be away from your loved ones for long periods of time, you made it possible for me to attend to every child and young adult I worked with. Now, as I am moving on, you make it possible for me to help old people (70+ years old) to enjoy and look forward to what they have left ahead. Both populations, children and elderly, are part of you and I. At young ages, we had no clue of the world, at old ages we will have little energy left, though tons of clues.
In between these extremes, it’s us, you and me. Today, like Alice in Wonderland–2 sides of the mirror. We do our best at what we know. I want to reach through the mirror and shake your hand. “Good job, brother” … “Good job, sister”.. If you don’t have anybody home, I want you to know that you do. About 300 million people like me, whose parents raised them in a safe world, wake up every day in the US and make choices, because they can. Not all of the choices are good, but they can make these choices because we all have something we take for granted—Our FREEDOM.