This happened when I went to Columbus, Ohio for a vacation some years back. While there, I found that my aunt Aida and her husband, Carl Allen Day, were soon moving to Savannah, Georgia.
That week, uncle Carl went ahead to search for a place where they could stay. On his way back home, we fetched him at the airport. While waiting for the plane’s arrival, I saw passengers from other planes.
One interesting sight I saw was those soldiers wearing fatigues and bringing backpacks. They just came from Iraq and I saw their faces how excited they were to see their families. In fact, when they saw their wives, they hugged and kissed. People who saw this incident clapped their hands.
Way back home, I could not recall any events something like what I witnessed in Ohio. Filipinos don’t seem to appreciate those soldiers defending our country. Some people consider them as people who are paid to do their jobs. They never see them as people who are willing to give their own lives for our own sake.
A few, in fact, have no respect for policemen. Instead of thinking them as someone who would protect them, they see policemen as people who would get money from them, especially those assigned in traffics. Others believe these policemen are accomplices of smugglers and other outlaws.
Although American cops and military personnel are far from perfect, they are well-loved by their people. Allow me to share this story forwarded to me via e-mail. How I wish this could happen in the Philippines, too:
Jessica put her carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in her assigned seat. Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding her. Wanting to start a conversation, she asked the soldier seated nearest to her: "Where are you headed?"
He told him that they were going to the Great Lakes Base in Chicago where they would undergo a special training for two weeks before they are going to be deployed to Iraq.
After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. Since it would be several hours yet before they would reach Chicago, Jessica decided to take a lunch to help pass the time.
As she reached for her wallet, Jessica overheard soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. "No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch," he replied. "Probably wouldn’t be worth five bucks. I’ll wait till we get to Chicago." His friend agreed.
Jessica looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch. She walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. "Take a lunch to all those soldiers," she told her. But she was surprised when the attendant grabbed her arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears as she thanked Jessica. "My son was a soldier in Iraq," she said, "it’s almost like you are doing it for him."
The flight attendant then headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated and gave each a sack lunch. She stopped at Jessica’s seat and asked, "Which do you like best – beef or chicken?" She replied the latter but wondered why the attendant asked. Her question was answered when a minute later, the attendant came back with a dinner plate from first class. "This is your thanks," she said.
After they finished eating, Jessica went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room. A man stopped her. "I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this," he said as he handed her twenty-five dollars.
Soon after she returned to her seat, Jessica saw the flight captain coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked. "I hoped he was not looking for me," she said but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on her side of the plane. When he got to her row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand, and said, "I want to shake your hand."
Quickly unfastening her seatbelt, she stood and took the captain’s hand. With a booming voice, he said, "I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.’" Jessica was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers.
Later, Jessica walked to the front of the plane so she could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of her reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another twenty-five dollars in her palm.
When they landed in Chicago, Jessica gathered her belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped her, put something in her shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!
Upon entering the terminal, Jessica saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. She walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. "It will take you some time to reach the base," she told them. "It will be about time for a sandwich. God bless all of you."
When you give, give freely. No motives whatsoever. Give because you hoped that something in return will happen to you. But give because you love and you want to give.
It is your way of saying thanks that you can still give instead of being someone to be given.
Give what you can, the Lord will give you more, so goes a line of a song. "We make a living by what we get," Duane Hulse said, "we make a life by what we give."
Alice R. Pratt said it right: "An ungiving person does live; he breathes, he eats, he sleeps, he gratifies his needs, but only exists until he has discovered the cleverly interwoven secret of life, giving of oneself. True giving is done without the slightest trace of expecting to receive. Is it only in giving that we ever receive? Perhaps in giving of oneself there is enough taken away to have room to receive."
This Christmas season, bear this in mind: It is better to give than to receive.
For comments, write me at henrytacio@gmail.com
