November 9, 2022

Just My Opinion - By Mary Kilen

Honoring Those Who Served
Friday is Veterans Day. This is one of the holidays that we close at the Promoter. That comes because there is a long history of service in both mine and Dale’s families. Veterans Day is one that we hold near and dear in our hearts. 
I hope that all of our readers will be able to attend Veterans Day services in their area. In Stanley, services will be held at the Veterans Park on Friday at 11 a.m. If you cannot attend services, I hope you will pause for just a few minutes, at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, to honor those who have served their country.
As we approach Veterans Day, the stories of every soldier are those we need to remember. They gave up their normal lives and served their country when called. They put themselves in grave danger and left families at home who spent their time of service praying nightly that their loved ones would come home.
Every day there are new veterans in our country as we continue to fight wars in foreign lands in the defense of freedom. We owe each and every one of these veterans a debt of gratitude and it is the least that we can do to remember them on one day of the year set aside for them.
I know I have used this poem before, but I will use it again this week because it is as true now as any time I have used it. The author is anonymous.
It is the Veteran
It is the Veteran, not the preacher, who has given us freedom of religion.
It is the Veteran, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the Veteran, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the Veteran, not the campus organizer, who has given us freedom to assemble.
It is the Veteran, not the lawyer, who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the Veteran, not the politician, who has given us the right to vote.
It is the Veteran, who salutes the Flag,
It is the Veteran, who serves under the Flag,
To be buried by the flag, 
So the protester can burn the flag.
Veterans Day originated as “Armistice Day” on Nov. 11, 1919, the first anniversary of the end of World War I. Congress passed a resolution in 1926 for an annual observance, and Nov. 11 became a national holiday beginning in 1938. Unlike Memorial Day, Veterans Day pays tribute to all American veterans—living or dead—but especially gives thanks to living veterans who served their country honorably during war or peacetime.
Veterans Day occurs on November 11 every year in the United States in honor of the “eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month” of 1918 that signaled the end of World War I, known as Armistice Day.
In 1954, President Dwight D. Eisenhower officially changed the name of the holiday from Armistice Day to Veterans Day.
In 1968, the Uniform Holidays Bill was passed by Congress, which moved the celebration of Veterans Day to the fourth Monday in October. The law went into effect in 1971, but in 1975 President Gerald Ford returned Veterans Day to November 11, due to the important historical significance of the date.

I’m Good With That
I saw this one on Facebook over the weekend and to be honest I cannot remember which friend shared it or where the post had originated. I read it and thought about the truth behind it and wanted to share it with my readers.
I spent years worrying about those “laugh lines” and even more coloring my hair to try to stave off the passage of time.
I gave up the coloring of my hair a while back and frankly I’m loving the natural gray in my hair. I get way more compliments about it than I expected and I’m always quick to give credit to Summer as the genius behind it.
I look in the mirror and I see those laugh or worry lines and realize it’s just part of who I am and the natural passage of time.
When I read this post it reminded me that I have earned every line and every gray hair over the years. I’ll wear them with pride!
“Women are constantly being inundated with ads for expensive products to erase our wrinkles, to erase our ‘age’.
Those lines on my face? Some are from years of laughing with the people I love. Some are from worrying about the children I am lucky enough to call my own. Some are from summer days spent at the beach. Some are from people I’ve loved and lost. All are evidence of a life lived.
So if, when I look in the mirror, I see my ‘age’ reflecting back at know what? I’m good with that!”