Subject: The Soldier
From: Unicorn (unicorn@indenial.com)
Date: Mon May 26 2003 - 09:39:51 EDT
"The Soldier"
In 1949, my father had just returned home from the war.
On every American highway you could see soldiers in
uniform hitchhiking home to their families, as was the
custom at that time in America. Sadly, the thrill of his
reunion with his family was soon overshadowed. My
grandmother became very ill and had to be hospitalized.
It was her kidneys, and the doctors told my father that
she needed a blood transfusion immediately, or she
would not live through the night.
The problem was that Grandmother's blood type was
AB negative, a very rare type even today, but even harder
to get then because there were no blood banks or air
flights to ship blood. All the family members were "typed,"
but not one member was a match. So the doctors gave
the family no hope; my grandmother was dying.
My father left the hospital in tears to gather up all the family
members, so that everyone would get a chance to tell
Grandmother good-bye. As my father was driving down
the highway, he passed a soldier in uniform hitchhiking
home to his family. Deep in grief, my father had no inclination
at that moment to do a good deed. Yet it was almost as if
something outside himself pulled him to a stop, and he
waited as the stranger climbed into the car. My father was
too upset to even ask the soldier his name, but the soldier
noticed my father's tears right away and inquired about them.
Through his tears, my father told this total stranger that his
mother was lying in a hospital dying because the doctors
had been unable to locate her blood type, AB negative, and
if they did not locate her blood type before nightfall, she
would surely die. It got very quiet in the car. Then this
unidentified soldier extended his hand out to my father,
palm up. Resting in the palm of his hand were the dog
tags from around his neck. The blood type on the tags
was AB negative. The soldier told my father to turn the
car around and get him to the hospital.
My grandmother lived until 1996, 47 years later, and to this
day no one in our family knows the soldier's name. But my
father has often wondered, was he a soldier or an angel in
uniform? Sometimes, we never know who G-d will bring
into our lives to carry out a special mission nor do we
know whose lives G-d will have us touch.
This archive was generated by hypermail 2b28 : Sun Jun 01 2003 - 00:00:02 EDT