Catholic Singles

THE OLD MAN
BY: MARK ANTHONY ROSOLOWSKI


He was an old man. Living alone in a run down home, you would see the old man wearing raggedy clothing, unshaven and for the most part unwashed. Yet everyday the children would go to visit him, bringing him cookies, sharing their sodas and sometimes the leftovers from their school lunch.

The children would sit transfixed in his yard as he told his stories of days gone by. They would be eager to hear more, clinging on to his every word. These children would share these stories with others, telling their parents of the tales he would weave. The parents would laugh and smile as the children told their tales, as the parents told them it was only an old man telling his lies.

As more children lined his yard, the parents became alarmed, telling their children to stay away he was a dangerous man. The parents called the police and reported the old man for enticing their children and expressing their fears of the old man. When the police arrived they saw the old man, neglected and unkempt. They inspected his home and found only a cot and blanket in one of the rooms, with a locked box next to the cot.

The police dragged the old man off to a hospital to be checked; they told the doctor the old man was telling crazy stories of his life. They found the stories to be funny as the old man told of his heroic actions in the war. The doctor concluded the man was mentally disturbed and had him committed to a Psychiatric Unit in the hospital.

They took the old man to the unit and locked him in a room; he cried out for his box, they said he could not have it. He begged for the box, that he needed it with him or he would die, the box and what it contained gave him his reason to live, he just wanted his box.

They told the old man to be quiet and threatened him with strapping him to the bed if he did not stop. The old man continued to yell and shout and as he did they came with medication and belts, they were going to give him a shot and tie him down. As they opened the door he tried to run, to escape, he had to get free, had to get to his box. He fought bravely; all were amazed at the strength of the old man. Finally the numbers grew to too many for him to fight and he was tied down and given medication. As the medication took effect he murmured, “Tell them I did my best, and let them know I wanted to save them all, but the numbers were too great.”

The old man died that night. Later the staff when opening the box that the old man so vainly fought for they found an old black and white photo, a group of 15 Marines. On the back of the picture was the date July 4, 1942, the location was smudged. In the box was a letter, they opened it, saw it was a citation signed by Franklin D. Roosevelt, it told how the old man had earned an award, he saved 10 of the 13 Marines while they were in fierce battle. Even though wounded himself he kept running to save those he was assigned to. They folded the letter back up and opened a simple black case, containing the Medal of Honor.

As the 4th of July approaches, we must all take a moment to remember, the freedom of speech is not given to us by the teacher, the freedom of the press is not bestowed upon us by the reporter, and the freedom to worship a gift given to us by God is not protected by the politician. These and all our other rights that were given to us by our Creator are guarded, protected and passed on to the next generation by the blood of those that serve in the Armed Forces.

As you enjoy your picnic, go shopping, watch the fireworks, remember those men and women who served, they did not do it for glory or for riches, they did it for love of God, Country and family. Please do not forget them.