Welcome home, Jason

I have no idea who Jason is, really, but evidently, he's coming home. About a week or so ago, I noticed several signs posted at every entrance and major intersection in my neighborhood. Welcome home, Jason! Most were surrounded by a little half-circle of teensy American flags. Many had stars-and-stripes balloons attached. None were harassed by the HOA, the landscapers, or even the weather.

I found myself thinking a lot about Jason. Who is he? Where's he been? Iraq, I'd imagine. Is he 18? Enlisted? An officer? Is this his first tour? Or does his family do this every time he comes home? Do these signs embarrass him, or make him proud? Ohhhh. What's his favorite Tex-Mex place he missed while away? Is he a Marine? Maybe Coastguard? Who knows?

I would imagine that these signs had many other people in my neighborhood wondering a few of these same things. How many of us acted on our thoughts? One. One woman (judging by the handwriting). On my way home the other day, I noticed a new sign, just off to the side of the main entrance of my neighborhood. "Welcome home, and THANK YOU. God bless you and your family." Wow. I was so touched. My heart swelled with admiration, both for Jason and for his new friend. For Jason, because he was brave enough to go God-knows-where and face God-knows-what to serve our country. And for this woman, because she was brave enough to make her sign, hop out of her car, and courageously stake her thoughts into the ground.

So welcome home, Jason. I hope you enjoy your time with your family, your endless supply of fresh tortillas and hot water, and your new friend who is thankful for you and your sacrifice. God bless you indeed.