Celebrating July 4th w/ a letter from WWII

Happy 4th of July!  I am so excited to share one of my favorite homeschoolers with you today!  Please welcome Linda, The Homeschool Apologist, she is sharing a most lovely tearful post!  God Bless America !

To many Americans, Independence Day has become little more than a holiday dedicated to family barbecues, parades, and fireworks. Though the celebrations have a value all their own, is it possible that we have lost our appreciation for the very idea the day celebrates? Has the true value of our freedom been swallowed up in our enjoyment of the benefits that liberty affords us?

The problem is a simple one. A person who has never felt the weight of the oppressor’s bonds can do little more than imagine the sheer joy of finally gaining freedom from them. Our forefathers understood oppression. They had suffered it and it made their hearts cry out for freedom. Though fighting for freedom brought with it a great and terrible price, for early Americans, it was a price worth paying.  Some, like Patrick Henry, made it clear they valued liberty even over life itself.

“Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”

Having been forced to swallow the bitter pill of oppression, our forefathers sought what they valued above all else—freedom. And in the years since America declared her independence, thousands have sacrificed everything in the pursuit of freedom—for themselves and for all who would come after them.

As another Independence Day approaches, how can we teach our children to appreciate the cost of the independence we celebrate on July 4th? Several years ago, my husband and I stumbled on the perfect learning aid in the form of a stack of letters between a young soldier and his parents. The letter that follows—the last one in the stack—provided a poignant illustration of a family’s sacrifice for the sake of
freedom. We read the same letter every year. And every year we weep. Our tears serve as a reminder of how incredibly blessed we are.

On Good Friday, March 30, 1945, Mr. and Mrs. Sibley of Newport, NH, wrote the following letter to their son, Lewis, who was serving his country with the US Army’s 18th Infantry Division in Germany.

Hi Jo Mio–

The first Army is getting the big headlines here, even bigger than Patton’s Third. Warren Winter is in the 9th now so you may see him–he has your address and according to the papers, the 9th and 1st Army line ranged from Paderbourn in the North to Aschaffenburg in the South. Your mother has washed the kitchen curtains this morning and is practicing now; she is going to sing “Were You There When They Crucified my Lord?” Easter morning. I have got her a corsage of white gardenias as coming from you. (Note added in new handwriting)

Dearest Lewis, I can’t help but see that I’m to have a gardenia on Sunday. But honestly, I don’t feel like wearing it until you come home. But let’s not tell Dad. He wanted to write the letter today so I’ve given up the pleasure except for just this line or two which I feel better if I write. God bless my son and please keep him well and safe.
Your loving
Mother.

I am writing this in the north living room with no heat on–most unseasonable weather–about 90 degrees yesterday. We’ll have to pay for this later, I’m afraid. Dearest Sonny, I can’t help but picturing myself in the squalor, the filth, the absence of all decencies of living, the awful din, the sights and stench of Death to which you are subjected, and I feel so humble and so helpless. God grant that you come home to us sound and well–that is our constant prayer.

Vayar con Dios,

Dad

Ten days after posting this letter to their son, Mr. and Mrs. Sibley received a Western Union telegram informing them of Lewis’ death in Germany. Pt. Lewis D. Sibley died on March 24, 1945–six days before the Good Friday letter was written. The letter was returned, still sealed, to Mr. and Mrs. Sibley with Lewis’ belongings. They never opened it.