A young soldier was buried today. A horse drawn carriage brought him through town to the church. An entire town mourned.

They handed out a picture of him taken by his Mother. He had the baby face of a boy.

The photo shows him standing in the family room dressed as a soldier. Years earlier,
in the same room, he had played as a child, and his mother lovingly held him in her arms.

His flag-draped casket was pulled down the street to St. John�??s church as hundreds
gazed upon it, hushed in disbelief. An unnatural feeling overwhelmed me. I said to myself, he was too young to die! I am so much older. I can�??t even remember when I was 20 years old, yet he died for me. How can this be? I�??ve already lived a long time and he has hardly breathed in this world!

At the church there were prayers, an appeal to God, farewells and thousands of tears.

His mother walked outside, dressed in black, dignified, and filled with heartache.
He was her only child. Her dignity and composure were the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed in my life.

I walked to the cemetery behind the horse-drawn carriage. Elderly World War Two veterans chose not to drive. Instead, with difficulty, they walked slowly behind his casket. He had walked in their footsteps of war. They followed him, an escort of honor. As young soldiers, they experienced loss. As old men, they understand what he has lost. He will never experience the romantic kiss of a loving wife, the loving embrace of a child, or the playful laughter of grandchildren.

As the flag- draped casket rolled past my eyes, I stood there feeling like a selfish coward.
I asked myself, �??What is the value of life? More importantly, what value have I given it by my own actions?�?� I was embarrassed. He had given so much and I had given so little.
I know his virtuous heart had already forgiven me.

I finally understood what the word �??hero�?� means. This boy in the casket and the firemen of 911 are very unusual people. Heroes are more closely bonded to humanity than the rest of us.

When I talk of nobility, selflessness and valor, I will use these words in honor of someone who understood their true meaning long before I ever did. He was just a boy but he had the courage of a man. He lived his life embracing these words rather than hiding from them. He volunteered for the US Army.

His name was Jared Raymond, from Swampscott, Massachusetts.

He was killed in Iraq.

by Thomas B. McNeil
September 28, 2006
Swampscott, Massachustts