Christmas Overseas

I was standing in line at the Post Office's self-serve kiosk on Saturday afternoon, waiting to mail a package that had mistakenly arrived at my address instead of my aunt and uncle's, when a young mother and her small baby got in line behind me with an unwieldy package.  I watched as the mother wrangled items into a box while keeping an eye and a half on her baby boy, who was nestled in a green polka-dotted blanket, watching her intently.  He made a little whimper and she looked at him anxiously.  "I know, sweetie," she crooned.  "You're doing so well.  Mommy's almost done."

"You're being the best and the cutest post office patron here!" I informed him, and leaned over to wiggle my fingers at him and smile.  His mother looked up and grinned, too, and I asked how old her little boy was.  "He's seven weeks old," she told me, "and this is really my first outing with him.  I try not to take him out much on errands."  I assured her I thought he was quite a good errand-runner.  "What's his name?"  "Henry.  We're mailing Christmas presents to his daddy."

"Where is his dad?" I asked.  "He's in Africa," she answered, and my eyebrows shot up.  "Wow - what for?"  "He's deployed," she answered, lifting the box of Christmas goodies from the counter.  "In the Somalia region."

"We appreciate his sacrifice," I said solemnly.  "And yours."  She smiled an exhausted-mother smile.  "That must be very difficult," I continued. "My sister has two kids, and even with a husband to help, it is still so hard for her.  I can't imagine doing it all alone."  She sighed and laughed softly.  "I am not sure I'm going to get used to it."  I assured her that I don't think single parents ever do get used to it all; they just keep going.

The line shortened and I mailed my package, congratulating myself on my alacrity at the kiosk.  Turning to go, I noticed the young woman had had to step out of line to fill out a customs form, making her wait all the longer.  Hoping I wasn't being a bother, I walked up to the forms desk and told her quietly, "Be sure to tell your husband that we appreciate his service and his sacrifice, which I can see is huge.  Merry Christmas."

As I left the post office in the dreary weather, I reflected again on how grateful I am for my family and friends this Christmas.  We may not be as close as I'd like, but states away is nothing compared to the distance of countries when I think of a young dad who has not yet seen his new - and first - child, and a mother who bravely carries on in the face of loneliness and hardship.  I am so grateful to live in America, protected and safe this Christmas, and for all those who make heart-wrenching sacrifices to keep me that way.