Moby,
I have mailed you once or twice before about relatively mundane things, a hymn request or the like, nothing of importance.
Tonight something struck me and I felt compelled to share it with you:
I called my wife as I was driving home from my office this evening, the regular chat, what would you like for dinner, anything interesting happen with our son at school today and then I'll see you in 30 minutes while I watch the red lights snake up Hwy. 400.

I arrived safely in the house to the smell of southern fried pork chops, and a hug and kiss from my wife, son and daughter. My 5 year old son proudly says grace for us, making sure to remind our Heavenly Father to watch over sissy (who is still learning to walk), Uncle Earnest (who is battling prostate cancer), Ethan (his little buddy from Pre-K who is winning his battle with Leukemia) and "everybody else who is sick or sad".

We finish supper and my son asks me to feel his loose tooth (the one we have been playing with the last week) and my little baby son (who is now 5 and 1/2) says go ahead Dad, pull it out, I WON'T CRY. And when I pull it he doesn't (but I almost do)! We show Momma and carefully place the tooth (the third in the on going war of baby tooth attrition) in the tooth fairy bag for her anticipated late evening visit, we then engage in our usual after dinner activity: wrestling like a couple of wild hooligan's let loose after the world cup, effectively destroying Momma and Daddy room. This all of course after his bath is finished so that his hair is a mess and Momma is vexed with Daddy for getting him wound up before bed.

Then from the other room I hear my wife call to me to report the next great event of the evening: My Little Bit (my name for my 2 year old baby girl) has just done her business on the big girl potty for the first time. Cheers and applause echo throughout the bathroom and our family home as if the lottery has just been won!

As things started to settle down, I walked by my dogs water bowl and noticed it was almost empty, and as I turn to the sink to fill it, that is when it hit me: All those little things that fill my life, everyday, how very precious, how very blessed am I? I have never, ever, done one thing in my life to justify the incredible gifts God has granted me. And meanwhile, there are American Service Men and Women sitting in the mountains of Afghanistan, in the slums of Iraq, on a Destroyer in the Mediterranean, or a C130 in the clouds watching it all. They didn't get to make that call tonight driving home, they didn't get to hug and kiss there little boy after wrestling with him, they didn't have their precious Little Bit come calling DAAAAH when she was done with her bath and smelling like I imagine one of Gods own Angels would, wanting me to hug and love on her.

How Lucky Am I? Well I'll tell you. I am the luckiest man in the world, to have other men and women who would give up their life, so that I can enjoy mine. And somewhere there is a Daddy, who want's that son or daughter he once wrestled with, home again. Not to wrestle with, only to hug and tell them that he loves them. AND I WANT THAT TOO!

Right then and there I thanked God for this gift, those men and women. My prayer was a very simple one, as I am a very simple man: "God, please watch over them, all of them, and bring them home safe."

THANK YOU and GOD BLESS YOU FOR WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO DO! How can I ever repay you?
God Bless And Keep You Moby, Ron, Jill and all of the cousins.

Warm Regards,
Richard Von Scherr
Dawsonville, GA