These Are Heroes?

"These are heros?" is what my daughter asked me out of the blue today as we stood in the Armory parking lot and helped to welcome the 218th Infantry Brigade back to Rock Hill from Afghanistan. I didn't know she knew that word. I didn't know she knew in what context it should be used.

As we walked around the hall, looking at the posters, coloring pages, and "Welcome Home" banners, I have to admit, I felt a little out of place. We didn't know anyone, didn't have any family members to greet like a lot of other attendees, but I felt like it was important to show Meghan what a true hero is. It's not someone who's dressed in blue and red and wears a cape or throws cobwebs. It's someone sporting combat boots and fatigues. Someone who's been missing their family for 18 months. Someone who's never met their daughter. Someone who prayed over a wounded friend. Someone who lost that friend. I realized right then that I take a lot for granted.

So as we listened to Toby Keith sing "American Soldier", reading the sentiments on the banners, waiting for the soldiers to come in, I could hardly hold my emotions in. Why? I didn't KNOW anyone! It wasn't MY husband coming home. But they were someone's. As they marched in, I held Meghan and whispered "those are heroes". We stood during the National Anthem, and closed our eyes during the prayer, and left. I felt strange staying there. I don't know why, we just had to go.

"These are heroes?" Yes baby, these are heroes.