'Unmasking the hidden need' - Valley Press

PRESSOPINION
EDITORIAL
Thank
a veteran
To many, Nov. 11 means a long
weekend; an extra day off from work or
school. To many more, it represents a
day to celebrate America’s veterans and
honor them for their patriotism and
willingness to serve and sacrifice for the
common good.
In November 1919, President
Woodrow Wilson proclaimed Nov.
11 as the first Armistice Day. “To us in
America, the reflections of Armistice
Day will be filled with solemn pride in
the heroism of those who died in the
country’s service and with gratitude for
the victory, both because of the thing
from which it has freed us and because
of the opportunity it has given America
to show her sympathy with peace and
justice in the councils of the nations.”
Wilson’s words ring true almost
100 years later. In a country that is often
fraught with political strife, people
on both sides of the spectrum agree
that the nation’s veterans, both living
and deceased, deserve respect for their
service.
The notion of a veteran has
changed as of recently. No longer are
veterans solely senior citizens who recall
stories of service in their younger years.
With the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan,
men and women in their early
20s are now among the distinguished
group of those who have served to
protect our country. Veterans of all
ages deserve the country’s respect, for
whether they fought in Korea or the
Middle East, they served to protect our
country and preserve our freedom.
Last year, Marine Lt. Gen. John F.
Kelly gave a Veterans Day speech to the
Semper Fi Society of St. Louis, Mo., emphasizing
the importance for those of
us who have not served our country to
honor those who do.
“Those with less of a sense of service
to the nation never understand
it when men and women of character
step forward to look danger and
adversity straight in the eye, refusing
to blink, or give ground, even to their
own deaths,” Kelly said. “The protected
can’t begin to understand the price
paid so they and their families can sleep
safe and free at night. No, they are not
victims, but are warriors, your warriors,
and warriors are never victims, regardless
of how and where they fall. Death,
or fear of death, has no power over
them. Their paths are paved by sacrifice,
sacrifices they gladly make for you.”
While it’s commendable that
there is a day to recognize veterans with
parades, ceremonies and moments of
silence, their dedication and service
should be commended year-round.
Stop and thank someone you see in a
veteran’s cap or with a veteran’s license
plate on his or her car. Visit or volunteer
at a veterans’ home or veterans’ hospital.
It’s one thing to say you appreciate
a veteran, but take that sentiment one
step farther and make a difference in
the life of a veteran.
GUEST COLUMN
Putting things in perspective
I hate needles. I have a visceral reaction to
needles. I shudder when I am in proximity to one. I
have avoided them at all costs. Our school nurse Jamie
pled her case for me to help protect my family
since the flu and infants don’t mix too well.
I reluctantly made an appointment with her,
but not before restating my complete aversion to
needles. I sarcastically asked Jamie if there would
be someone available to hold my hand. She responded
with an email showing a Grizzly Bear poking
his head through a tent door at a campground.
Her caption read: “WAY SCARIER THAN A FLU
SHOT.”
I made an appointment with Jamie to receive
the dreaded needle on Tuesday, but completely (or
conveniently) forgot. On Wednesday I manned-up
and marched myself down to the nurse’s office located
in the elementary school portion of our campus.
I felt like a giant of a man striding past the
wee-little coat racks and miniature furniture. I seldom
wander from my grown-up size habitat of the
high school art building. The door to the nurse’s
office was open, but the light was out. I peeked in
and said, “hello?” In the dark of the office, behind a
screen I saw Jamie sitting with a little boy. She was
speaking softly and rubbing his back while he lay
curled beneath a blanket. Jamie gently indicated
that it was OK to come in.
I sat myself down on the adjacent bed and was
warmly greeted by nurse and patient. The young
boy sat up, offered a friendly greeting and shook
my hand. Although I had never met him, I immediately
knew who he was, and why he was in the
nurse’s office.
His name is Logan Schoenhardt and he is a
first-grader. Not long after I sat down, Logan said
as-matter-of-factly, “My cancer came back.” Logan
has been battling cancer for a few years. After
several remissions, the cancer has aggressively returned.
Our small school community prays regularly
for little Logan and his family.
Logan said, “Look, they shaved my head
again.” I had never seen Logan without a hat and
his glasses. Logan’s cranium was marked by a spiraling-scar
that ran from his temple to the far back
of his head. Logan was not bothered in the least by
his appearance.
Logan asked why I was in the office and Jamie
shared that I was receiving a flu shot. I asked Logan
how many needles he has received in his life.
He said with a wide smile, “a hundred, million billion.”
He then showed me the tube under his right
arm, and between his ribs where he receives his
chemotherapy. Logan was resting from a recent
treatment.
Jamie handed me a form to sign prior to receiving
the shot. Logan noticed that I was left-handed
like he was. We talked about art and I shared that
I teach his talented older sister in the high school
whom he is clearly impressed by! After a bit of
small talk, Jamie sat to my right with the shot. As I
watched her tear the packaging, Logan (unprompted)
walked over to me from his bed. He stood directly
in front of me, leaned on my left knee and
held my left hand with both of his tiny hands.
I turned to see Jamie, but before my eyes could
make contact with her (or the needle) Logan covered
my view with his hand and guided my face
to his. He gripped my hand again with both of his,
but this time squeezed repeatedly … like a beating
heart. His little hands were surprisingly strong.
Logan looked square into my eyes with his bright,
unflinching stare and said, “now just look at me.”
Jamie administered my shot at the very moment
his hands squeezed mine, and I truly felt
nothing. Logan softly, and compassionately said,
“See that wasn’t so bad.”
Logan, a tiny first-grader battling cancer, offered
me his bravery, compassion, strength, protection
and love … for my flu shot.
Logan had no idea of the impact he had made
in that moment. Nurse Jamie and I held-back the
emotions we naturally wanted to express. (Though
I could not hold back my tears shortly after I left
her office.) Logan was simply being himself by
modeling God’s love.
Well, I did ask for someone to hold my hand
for my flu shot. Thanks Nurse Jamie, and thanks
Logan!
I no longer fear needles.
Jim DeCesare
The Master’s School, Simsbury
Please contact Joneen Monitto ( jmonitto@masterschool.org)
to inquire about how to donate to Logan’s
extraordinary expenses.
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18 The Valley Press November 14, 2013