Thankful for our Vetrans' Sacrifices

Now that we’re deep into celebrations, parties and all the excitement of this time of year, I want to share an email that has been passed along to me several times over the years. It should be true even if it isn’t. As always, if you know who originated or wrote the text, please email me at heavenhel­pusbeourbest@gmail.com.

Back in September 2005, on the first day of school, Martha Cothren, a social studies teach­er at Robinson High School in Little Rock, Ark., did some­thing not to be forgotten. On the first day of school, with the permission of the school super­intendent, the principal and the building supervisor, she re­moved all of the desks from her classroom. When the first peri­od entered the room, the kids discovered they had no desks.

Looking around, confused, they asked, 'Ms. Cothren, where are our desks?' She re­plied, 'You can't have a desk until you tell me what you have done to earn the right to sit at a desk.' They thought, 'Well, maybe it's our grades.' 'No,' she said.

'Maybe it's our behavior.' She told them, 'No, it's not even your behavior.' And so, they came and went, the first period, second period, third period. Still no desks in the classroom.

By early afternoon, televi­sion news crews had started gathering in Ms. Cothren's classroom to report about this crazy teacher who had taken all the desks out of her room. The final period of the day came and the puzzled students found seats on the floor of the desk­less classroom.

'Throughout the day no one has been able to tell me just what he/she has done to earn the right to sit at the desks ordinarily found in this class­room. Now I’m going to tell you,' Cothren said.

Then she opened the class­room door. Twenty-seven U.S. veterans, all in uniform, walked in, each carrying a school desk. The vets began placing the desks in rows, then walked to stand alongside the wall. By the time the last soldier had set the final desk in place, the students seemed to understand, perhaps for the first time in their lives, just how the right to sit at those desks had been earned.

Their teacher said, 'You didn't earn the right to sit at these desks. These heroes did it for you. They placed the desks here for you. Now, it's up to you to sit in them. It is your respon­sibility to learn, to be good students, to be good citizens. They paid the price so that you could have the freedom to get an education. Don't ever forget it.' I think it’s worth adding that uniformed heroes, past and present, also gave us the gift of celebrating Christmas, Hanuk­kah, Kwanza or nothing in particular this season. We can call each other names, we can even deni­grate heroes and we won’t find ourselves jailed or executed for doing so. May your holi­days be filled with the love that entered our world on Christmas Day – and may each of us ex­press gratitude for the sacrifices of those who volunteered to guard our freedoms.