Monday, Bloody Monday

The world woke to the news today that we have hit the 4000 mark of soldiers killed in Iraq today. I was filled with sorrow for those who have lost a loved one in this horror, whether it be American, English, Australian,, Iraqi, etc...somewhere there is a mother that lost a son, or a wife that lost a husband. A daughter that is the same age as my youngest, 10, is being told that she will not see her daddy again. She does not know if her daddy or her big brother was on the "good" side or the "bad" side. She knows that the person that ran along side her while she rode her bike without training wheels for the first time will not do that with HER children. She will not hear that bedtime story again, or get him to take her to learn to drive for the first time. These are the things we are losing, and I wonder if the loss is worth the gain?

Before my husband left he made a Build-a-Bear for me. It was a rare moment that he was on leave and we had a few days together. We went to one of the stores, and the ladies that worked there found out what he was doing for me an put him through his paces. He danced with the stuffed Cheetah that he picked out, washed it, dressed it in camo, named it and put a little voice recording in it. Of course I was teary the whole time because he was being so sweet, and the women in the store were as well. He mentioned that now while he was gone I would be able to hear his voice whenever I wanted. I noticed they were all glancing at each other as if they were communicating something, so I finally persuaded them to tell me. They told me this story:

There was a man that went into their store a few years back at the start of the war to make a bear for his daughter. She was about 6 at the time. He went through similar steps in choosing the perfect animal, dressing it, naming it, and putting a personal message inside. He left it for her as a special surprise after he was gone. She played that message every day, not realizing that was the last time she would hear his voice. He was killed by a roadside bomb, as so many are. About six months later she came into the store with her mother in hysterics. She had played the message so many times that it was no longer working. They spoke to the manager and gave their name, and after looking up the information, the manager leaned down to the child and told her to wait just a minute while she went to the back. She came out holding a copy of the voice insert. The soldier had made a duplicate, just in case. They also had a copy sent to the headquarters where they made several more and they were waiting. The manager told her to listen as much as she wanted, and they would keep her bear washed, stuffed and in great shape as long as she needed it. The store employees told me that this child still wore her bear out but that she is now a part of their "family", and that she frequently visits just to say hello. Those people in that store- they are heroes. Every one of them is a person to be admired. They have gone above and beyond for the sake of a child and the sanity of a mother.

Of course I was a complete mess by this time and realized that we had an audience that had been listening. It was time for me to be presented with my Cheetah. He had to dry out a bit. I think at least 20 people shook my husband's hand that day, including several small children. It's one of those "moments"- the ones that are engraved on you forever.

I never knew that little girl's name, but I thought about her all day when the news came on with that 4000 number. I wish for her sake it would have been 3999. I wish that she could somehow know how much she has inspired me. I wish she had her daddy's real voice and warm arms instead of a worn-out recording from a threadbare toy to tuck her in at night.

I think I will go to bed now and kiss my little girl on the way.