"Heroes
Carved in Stone"
By Sabrina Stidham
Troy, MI. 2004
A young girl in the
seventh grade.
I stood staring
in awe as my gaze settled upon a black granite wall of memories.
As I stood there not a
muscle in my body twitched, except for the rhythmic beating of my weary heart.
Before me, a great wall,
with the names of Fathers, Sons, Mothers, Daughters; Soldiers; Heroes...carved
in stone. As I looked at the granite I saw behind it. A scene of tangled
jungles, mud covered boots, people crying, as their lives came to an unwritten
end. On the ground I saw the bodies of fallen soldiers, bloody and cold from
death. In my heart I felt their pain and fear, which lingered in their
unforgotten souls.
In my mind I could see
them standing around me, in what was left of their tiger-striped tattered
camouflage. Blood covered, dirty calluses had formed on their hands, and
memories of home were lost in the emptiness of their stares.
I saw beside me the
American Flag, still and unmoving in the bustling air. I shivered at the eerie
sight. Suddenly, I felt that I wasn’t alone, as though I were in the presents
of a soldier; I paused, not believing in my feelings. A chill went down my
spine as I felt a touch on my shoulder. I turned to see a woman; a mother, with
tears in her eyes, reading the name of her son. At that moment I realized that
the soldiers have not been forgotten. They live on in our hearts; then, now,
and forever.
As I turned to leave, I
hesitated; looked back at the wall and said aloud, "Thank You", and I
swear I heard a voice carried on the wind whisper..."Never Forget".
