Our American Flag quilt now resides on the wall in Ward 68.
We met some special visitors at Walter Reed while waiting for our escort in the Lobby.We arrived at Walter Reed 10:00 am yesterday with an enormous load of beautiful quilts, Christmas stockings stuffed with goodies, cards and letters, giftwrapped electric shavers and Girlsout cookies. Our visit began on the 7th Floor in Oncology. The first patient we visited was a young woman in a big room all alone. She saw us come in with our arms full of gifts and began to cry, she said she didn't really feel like it was Christmas until we covered her with the quilt, and told her about how kids from the 4th and 5th grade made the stocking just for her. She asked us to thank the children who made the stocking and wished us a Merry Christmas through happy tears.
The next room was another young female soldier. She looked pleased to see visitors and was greatful for a warm quilt, Christmas stocking and especially the Girl Scout cookies. She took the box of Tag Alongs and said, "these are my favorite!" Maria went back to the cart of gifts and brought in a Build-a-Bear dressed in an army uniform and gave it to her. The little bear was made by a sweet girl in the 5th grade--it brought a big smile. We left the room and looked back through the little window in the door and saw she was holding the bear in her lap studying the details on the uniform and smiling. We visited many more cancer patients, soldiers from this war and wars past. All were grateful for the company and extended their sincere thanks for the hands that created the quilts and the children that put their hearts into making the Christmas cards and stockings.
We made our way to the 6th floor and I entered a soldier's room and saw a young man curled up in a white sheet in the hospital bed sleeping. All I could see of him was his dark hair and a pair of dusty army boots still on his feet, hanging off the end of the bed. I walked in quietly and placed a quilt at the end of the bed and left a stocking, cookies and a shaver on his table.
The next room was empty, the soldier was in surgery and his belongings were piled on a chair. I noticed a pair of worn-in army boots on the floor covered in a fine dust speckeled with large dark red drops of blood. I placed the quilt and gifts on a table and left the room thinking of where those boots had been, the soldier wearing them and the friends he had left behind in Iraq.
I visited a young man who had been at Walter Reed for several months, his room walls were covered wth cards and drawings from friends, family and visitors. His right leg was broken from hip to ankle, held together with a metal halo with screws and rods holding his bones in place. His left leg was still healing from large wounds left by a rocket propelled grenade. This soldier was in good spirits and in the mood for a long chat. I asked what happened and he told me a dramatic story of being on patrol with his unit in Iraq. He and his unit were exiting a house when a rocket hit the soldier in front of him taking off both legs. The blast from the explosion pushed the first soldier into him, and killed his best friend standing beside him, as well as shattering one of his legs and a opening a large flesh wound the other. The soldier said President Bush had visited the day before, and spent some time talking while giving him the purple heart. I asked how he was doing aside from his obvious injuries, he talked about the long uncomfortable nights unable to turn over in bed and the frustratingly slow healing process. He was encouraged that he had just stood up that day for the first time in physical therapy, and looks forward to gaining strength and making progress towards recovery in the new year.
The next room was another young female soldier. She looked pleased to see visitors and was greatful for a warm quilt, Christmas stocking and especially the Girl Scout cookies. She took the box of Tag Alongs and said, "these are my favorite!" Maria went back to the cart of gifts and brought in a Build-a-Bear dressed in an army uniform and gave it to her. The little bear was made by a sweet girl in the 5th grade--it brought a big smile. We left the room and looked back through the little window in the door and saw she was holding the bear in her lap studying the details on the uniform and smiling. We visited many more cancer patients, soldiers from this war and wars past. All were grateful for the company and extended their sincere thanks for the hands that created the quilts and the children that put their hearts into making the Christmas cards and stockings.
We made our way to the 6th floor and I entered a soldier's room and saw a young man curled up in a white sheet in the hospital bed sleeping. All I could see of him was his dark hair and a pair of dusty army boots still on his feet, hanging off the end of the bed. I walked in quietly and placed a quilt at the end of the bed and left a stocking, cookies and a shaver on his table.
The next room was empty, the soldier was in surgery and his belongings were piled on a chair. I noticed a pair of worn-in army boots on the floor covered in a fine dust speckeled with large dark red drops of blood. I placed the quilt and gifts on a table and left the room thinking of where those boots had been, the soldier wearing them and the friends he had left behind in Iraq.
I visited a young man who had been at Walter Reed for several months, his room walls were covered wth cards and drawings from friends, family and visitors. His right leg was broken from hip to ankle, held together with a metal halo with screws and rods holding his bones in place. His left leg was still healing from large wounds left by a rocket propelled grenade. This soldier was in good spirits and in the mood for a long chat. I asked what happened and he told me a dramatic story of being on patrol with his unit in Iraq. He and his unit were exiting a house when a rocket hit the soldier in front of him taking off both legs. The blast from the explosion pushed the first soldier into him, and killed his best friend standing beside him, as well as shattering one of his legs and a opening a large flesh wound the other. The soldier said President Bush had visited the day before, and spent some time talking while giving him the purple heart. I asked how he was doing aside from his obvious injuries, he talked about the long uncomfortable nights unable to turn over in bed and the frustratingly slow healing process. He was encouraged that he had just stood up that day for the first time in physical therapy, and looks forward to gaining strength and making progress towards recovery in the new year.
I met another soldier who had a facial injury, one side of his face severely distorted and swollen with bandages and tubes attatched. I held up a box of cookies and a quilt, he smiled and gave me the thumbs up and waved me into his room. His wife was sitting beside him holding his hand, she took the quilt and gently covered his legs with it.
Making our way to many more rooms I met some remarkable veterans I will not forget. Each of them has a story to tell, each one different and intense. I had the privledge of making a connection with several men and women as I shook their hands and met their eyes with a sincere understanding--me giving my deepest thanks to them and, they receiving my thanks on behalf of many on a very real and palpable level. Their hands were warm and strong and reluctant to let go. It was an honor and a blessing to meet and touch each and every one of them.
We had given away every last quilt, cookie, shaver and Christmas stocking when I realized I still had one last card in my bag. The card was carefully prepared by my 8 year old son with instructions to be given to a special soldier. Our escort Col. Cooper said that one of the soldiers we visited on July 4th was still there and getting ready to fly home for Christmas. I was very happy to hear that this young man had made such a remarkable recovery. When I met David in July he was unable to talk and had large open wounds left by an IED to his stomache and legs. We made our way a small lobby of the Malogne House where a friendly voice called out to Col. Cooper. A woman was sitting in a chair in a waiting area, she is the mother of a soldier staying at the Malogne house and knew Col. Cooper well. She reminded Col. Cooper of a promise to sing Christmas carols--Col. Cooper responded with an impromptu performance of Silent Night. Maria and I joined in and stumbled our way through the words, each of us recalling a different verse. For me, this was one of the best versions of Silent Night I have ever heard. Right there in a quiet corner of Walter Reed, young soldiers bundled in coats, hats, and scarves passing by on prosthetic legs and smiling at us as we sang our way through Silent Night together.
David called out to us as we walked through an outdoor patio on the way to his room. I couldn't believe my eyes, he was walking, smiling, and looking healthy and strong. He greeted me with a big hug and a hearty Merry Christmas. I studied his face and it was a dramaticly different David than the one I met on July 4th. The David in July was pale and thin and couldn't talk because he had so many tubes in his nose and mouth. I gave him the Christmas card my son made, he looked carefully at the tank and stick-people soldiers with helmets that looked like halos. A smile flashed across David's face and he read the greeting inside that said,"thank you for 'fiting' for our country". He tucked the card into the inside pocket of his jacket and asked that I send a thank you and a Merry Christmas my son. David then treated us to a few hundred photos on the computer of his new baby boy. The visit with David was the perfect ending to our day among heros at Walter Reed Army Medical Center.
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