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Our Bullets are Bigger Only a mother would take a second glance...I stared at crude stick men, fascinated by crayon scribbles, wedged between science and spelling papers, dab of peanut butter stuck on one corner. The stick men looked like fat ants, who had feasted on the peanut butter, then crawled to paper places standing up like loyal sentries, stick guns in hand. Big PURPLE BULLETS drew my eyes to attention. An over-sized flag flew high above purple projectiles upon matching purple pole--PURPLE, white, and blue STRIPES--odd-colored stripes waving a wrong color! "Ran out of red...he flippantly said...purple was all I had" "The teacher told me to draw a picture about The Star Spangled Banner, and how I feel about what happened last week, " he simply said, diving out to play, peanut butter sandwich in hand. This was his picture of war...unreal to innocence. A simple drawing held such a menagerie of meaning; creation triggered by events of untold tragedy. Only one week ago, tall buildings of strong steel suddenly crumbled like tinker-toy towers. Americans fell to their knees in agony, but not defeat! Vividly-painted words ran red from recesses of my mind, indelibly etched by his dad's painful memoirs of war, Blood brushed from fields of death, innocence wounded, lost in death's dark silhouette, with every wake of artillery. From his heart came make-believe guns, stick figures, a biggg flag, and huge PURPLE projectiles--his bullets. No blood or wounded on his simple, crayon battlefield. My heart colored between the lines my son had drawn. In my eyes, that flag and those bullets grew bigger! He had no whys or reasons...just simple faith...in me, in his school teachers and Sunday school teacher, who taught him that America still stands...for freedom. America's greatest weapons are not missiles of cold steel, but are in a power understood by many men of great valor; now I clearly see 'purple hearts' hiding in crayon colors. We win, when our weapons are mixed with compassion, and our courage and trust is in God and each other. If we forget this truth, we become like our enemy, full of hate and venom...destroying ourselves. In the midst of despair and destruction came heroes, so many we shall never hear of, so many sacrificed life to save another, no greater love was ever seen. As Americans fell to their knees, reaching up for God's Hand of Strength, and out to each other, people of all backgrounds joined hands in prayer... together in love, together in faith, together in unity. This war must first be won in the hearts of Americans before it is won on the battlefield or our fight is vain. As I tucked Josh into bed, I sang his favorite song, "Jesus loves me," holding him ever closer, I prayed a simple prayer, believing my bullets are stronger than enemy bullets...knowing my bullet of faith travels straight to the heart of God, exploding with compassion in a blaze of glorious love. |
Additional Notes:
This memorial to 9/11 is a day late, but I wanted to get it on my website before I submitted it here. It is a revision of a poem I submitted last year, but I changed the wording quite a bit.
To see the ORIGINAL DRAWING made by my son, Josh, then 10, visit his page at my site:
http://lightheartedwords.homestead.com/OurGunsAreBigger.html
(I put 'guns' instead of 'bullets' in the webpg title, but would have had to delete the whole pg to change it...don't think too straight at 3am)
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2003-10-06 08:50:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.55882
Will visit the website to get a view of the picture. I see depth into the poem and I searched for the truth you speak of within it. Your ending tells it all to me but your story leads up to it. A drawing as you indicated rarely has consequences and physical results, yet depending on the viewer can motivate one. I read this several times for I was unsure of the direction you were taking me examples:
Was it wrong to be at war?
Were we right to be at war?
Does philosophy enter the picture for justification?
Does faith give us the okay and makes us right?
What makes us stand above the evil?
These are just a few of the directions I traveled. If this was your intent then great job if you wanted me
to go a specific direction then I am sorry I missed it. Really enjoyed reading this one leaves so many questions and that I like. Tom