In the Company of Heroes

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, dumping breakfast leftovers in the trash along the way. He hurried over to the woman being wheeled across the lobby in her wheelchair. She had "cancer" written all over her, with the tired, pale face gazing out from under a knit hat.

***

I went to Bardmoor Clinic this morning for a semi-routine blood test, then bought a muffin and some coffee. While I was puzzling over the coffee stuff, The Man had commented, "You must be studying that thing!"

"That thing" was the book Black Hawk Down, which I'm re-reading. The three Post-It notes betrayed my use of the book.

"Not exactly. Those are bookmarks; these two are where I quoted the book in a class for new engineers, and this one is for an upcoming men's group meeting at church.  You've probably seen the movie (he had); well, I had the privilege of teaching a class with Mike Durant a few years ago. He was the pilot of the second Blackhawk that was shot down."

"The opening picture Mike uses in his talks is this one (here I fumbled around looking for this photo); he calls it, like his book, In the Company of Heroes. Mike is the one on the right."

The Man peered closely at the photo, printed in grainy black and white: five fit young men in their thirties, smiling for the camera.

"Mike is the only one who survived that day in Mogadishu. He points to these men for that title. He also points to two men, Shughart and Gordon, Delta Force operators who volunteered repeatedly to go down and guard Mike's crashed Blackhawk, then died defending it. Defending Mike."

I indicated to The Man that he should go on and get his coffee first; "You look like you know your way around this place."

"Unfortunately, I do...my wife..." His voice trailed off.

We share a few more words, then part with our food to different tables. I supposed that he wanted to eat alone. I resumed reading Black Hawk Down.

Suddenly, The Man rose from his seat, dumping breakfast leftovers in the trash along the way. He hurried over to the woman being wheeled across the lobby in her wheelchair. She had "cancer" written all over her, with the tired, pale face gazing out from under a knit hat. He moved right in and took over from the hospital attendant, wheeling her toward the exit.

Her face was turned toward him. He was her hope, her help, her hero. Maybe, in the mysterious way of marriage, she was his hero as well. They went out the door, and out of my life.

***

Sometimes we're in the company of heroes and don't even realize it. But ah, when we do. I wish you could see Mike's face when he talks about Shughart and Gordon. Probably, you never will. But look around: not too far from you are men and women who lay down their lives for their friends, even for strangers. There are people around you who demonstrate the love of Jesus. Look for them, and re-find your tears the way I did.