Tonight I have a new-found thankfulness for those who give. I watch the news and see harried healthcare providers and I’m thankful they continue to work. I go to the grocery store and I’m thankful for my checker and bagger who come to work so I can eat, yet refuse to allow me to tip them to show my thanks. I’m thankful for truck drivers who deliver needed goods and cops on the front line. I’m thankful for the barista who keeps me caffeinated.
I find myself needing to express my thanks because of my daughter. She’s 24 now, and was 18 when her little brother died. She’s 4 feet 11 inches and proudly bragged a few months ago to finally have “bulked up” to 100 pounds. Since 2nd grade, she wanted to be a teacher. That changed when she lost her brother. She became an EMT and works for the fire department in her Montana home. Whoever heard of a 4’11” 100-pound fireman?
Today she informed me she’s deploying to Southern California to help provide front-line COVID relief. At first, I was angry. Why would she take that risk? I lost one child already! My fragile soul won’t take losing my other child to COVID. And then I was proud. Proud of my baby girl because she says “dad, how can I NOT go help? I want Tandi to be proud of me”.
He’s a proud brother, baby girl. Tonight your brother…and your dad…are proud of you.
So tonight I’m thankful for all who face the risk and give of themselves, especially those who give when they don’t have to. Who give when no one would fault them for staying home and staying safe. Who give because its right. Whose giving comes from a place deep in their hearts.
Tonight I’m scared for my little girl. But more than that I’m thankful for and proud of, my EMS daughter.