As a child, one of my favorite periods of the school year was when they sent us home with the scholastic book catalog. I would sit down and go through with my colored pens circling what I wanted and then what I really wanted. I am sure that some of the books ended up on my list for Santa, or even caught Santa’s attention and ended up under the tree, but up until second grade, I had never actually ordered from the catalog. As a kid, even a $10 price tag seemed astronomical. And then as an 8-year-old, my Grandma Liz came over one day and saw me going at that catalog as if I was coloring in pictures. She asked me what I was doing, and I showed her how cool it was that my school gave me this pamphlet for FREE! After I finished explaining all the different books (about 7 of them) to her, she told me to order them.
I remember being totally beside myself and excited because I never expected to ever get to order them all at once. It was also the first time I ever saw a check. My parents probably heard about the books for the rest of the school year. One of the books was called Words That Built A Nation; I have no idea why I picked it or why I found it fascinating. As I flipped through the book, I latched onto the words, “My fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” I am not sure why I picked that out of the entire book, and I have always been surprised that I somewhat understood the words at such a young age. But, to me, those words were remarkable and at 8 years old they moved me to research President Kennedy and write my own little “report” on who he was complete with a crappy printer reproduction of the presidential portrait that for many years I swore was “that picture of JFK with the yellow background”. And then I grew up and forgot all about JFK, except that his visage graced a picture of that old campaign poster that hung on our basement wall. But what I never forgot was the spirit that those words stirred in me. Growing up, I know that words like President Kennedy’s, whether directly or subconsciously, formed my adult attitudes and approach to life.
Then early this year, my friend asked if we could read “Jack Kennedy Elusive Hero” together. I said hey why not, and then the memories flooded back, and I remembered how much I idolized him as a child. Now, as I’ve grown, and read other biographies, like Dalek’s, President Kennedy is no longer on the pedestal he sat on when I was a child. I can recognize and cringe at his flaws, but at the same time, acknowledge that we all have vastly different life experiences that shape us. But what I know is that regardless of the “Camelot exaggeration” and the at times, saucy besmirchment, President Kennedy was a man who was not by any stretch of the mind perfect, but he was a man that moved people to be better and do things greater than themselves.
That sheer joy, excitement, and surprise that my grandmother, with a single action, gave me have always made that catalog episode one of my fondest memories of my grandmother. She could have never expected how that unselfish act so formed her granddaughter. I learned how simple acts of kindness could make others feel incredibly special, and later, I learned how defining those moments could be. I am incredibly fortunate to have that support system and those people in my life. I’ll take today to be thankful for all those who have loved me, those who inspire me, Happy 101 President Kennedy, and those who defend my right to be loved and encouraged, safe and free. To all the veterans who have served and to those who currently serve, thank you.