Sacrifice ...?

Today, I had a discussion with several "older" folks about love--real love. The kind that helps you live a little longer so that your daughter can say goodbye to you, the kind that makes you throw yourself in front of an angry dog, the kind that changes things.

And we talked about Pearl Harbor and The War and the way that the nation had to unite together through sacrifice.

And I don't know too much about sacrifice. I've never had to grow a Victory Garden, save stamps for sugar, or even knit out of necessity. We, our generation, don't know too much about sacrifice.

These folks recognized this, too. They worry about our ability to sacrifice for each other, should something really terrible happen.

Sometimes I worry, too. Sometimes I think that we are hopeless, selfish beings.

But mostly I think that we are still capable of that kind of sacrifice--of consuming less so that others can have more, of seeing beyond color and gender to the heart underneath, of offering ourselves when we have nothing else to give. Mostly I think that we will be able to love the way that our grandparents did.

I do hope, in a small growing way, deep down.

I hope that we will be able to offer something in our defense to the generations that produced us. I don't like the thought of them sitting around talking about us, wondering if the future they worked so hard for is lost.