Sweetheart, here's the Christmas card my fourteen year old daughter chose to send to Walter Reed. I am having the most difficult time writing and addressing the cards, because I inevitably begin crying in gratitude:
There is a magical picture of a proud strong buck with glorious golden antlers with this message:
Christmas...
a time to hope,
a time to dream,
a time to believe,
(and I have added)
a time to love.
I have added, that the card is filled with the warmest wishes for the very best Christmas of your life, filled with little joys and miracles.
I am so full of gratitude for the gifts you give, Sarge. My heart overflows with this knowledge.
This has been a rough two days for me. It's just been a bitch between the dems and the muslims. I've cried more times than I care to admit these past too days, not because I'm 'sad', because I am so mad.
Now, dust yourself off (with me) pull up your boots (with me), and know that we love you immensely.
Ditto that!
Hear hear!
That was beautiful.