Dear Unnamed American Soldier,

I have often thought of you after your kindness to my son in the airport so many years ago. Was it 2005? I don’t remember exactly, but he was probably around 4 years old. We were traveling alone, and Max, my son, was probably a little fidgety or feisty or otherwise impatient. He’s a good boy, but long trips are hard with a little one. You smiled, were kind, and gave him a large coin that had a name, regiment number, and battalion number on it. I looked at the coin quickly, because I still had Max to herd, but had always assumed the name was yours and we could find you, write to you somehow later to thank you for your kindness.

But time passed, and we misplaced the coin. Today, while working all alone in the house, I found the coin. After taking a closer look at it, and looking the name up on the Internet, I now realize we will never find you. The coin says ”GARRYOWEN” and the 2d Battalion, 7th Regiment. That’s not your name; it’s the nickname of your cavalry regiment. I will never find you.

Knowing that I cannot personally thank you has hit me hard for some reason. (As an aside, my emotional state was pushed even further when “Billy Don’t Be Hero” played from my iTunes just as I sat down to write this.) As I said above, I have thought of you often, hoping for your safety. You represent to me all of the soldiers who sacrifice, anywhere, every day for us at home. I pray you are safe and well, wherever you are.

Please know that your small gesture, giving a coin to a little boy, had a big impact on him and an even bigger one on his mother. Such a small gesture was magnified against the backdrop of your enormous sacrifice. Thank you, and God bless you and your fellow soldiers.

Max’s Mom, age 45