In life, we all encounter difficult times and challenging periods. During those moments, the love and support of those around us become essential in helping us get back on our feet. This is especially true for the brave souls who selflessly serve their country, asking for no reward in return.
Unfortunately, many veterans find themselves struggling upon returning from duty. In some cases, the benefits they receive may not be sufficient to sustain them, leaving them uncertain about their next steps as they transition back to civilian life.
Larry Robeson, a Vietnam veteran, knew these struggles all too well. Reports indicate that Larry, who could barely afford basic necessities, found himself in a difficult situation with no clear path forward.
Fate had other plans for Larry when he crossed paths with the Fox 5 Surprise Squad at a grocery store in Las Vegas. The Surprise Squad was there to cover people’s grocery bills, and they approached Larry when they noticed him in the store.
Despite his financial difficulties, Larry had taken his friend Stephanie, a disabled fellow veteran, to the store. Stephanie shared that she was buying food for herself and her dogs but was down to her last $50, unsure of what to do next.
Dave Hall, the reporter leading the Surprise Squad, offered to cover Stephanie’s groceries, bringing relief and gratitude to her. But Dave also noticed Larry standing quietly behind Stephanie.
It turned out that Larry, a friend of Stephanie’s husband, had established the Bones for Blankets club many years earlier. The club’s mission was to donate blankets to homeless veterans who found themselves on the streets after their service to their country.
Larry’s motivation for starting the club was heart-wrenching; he wanted to prevent more veterans from suffering the same fate as three comrades who had tragically frozen to death. The club’s actions aimed to ensure that no more veterans would face such dire circumstances.
Larry explained that Stephanie’s husband was often away as a truck driver, and he offered her companionship and support, especially considering the challenges she faced due to her disability.
Dave Hall, deeply moved by Larry’s story and his commitment to helping fellow veterans, was determined that Larry wouldn’t leave the store without the Surprise Squad team paying for his groceries.
Although Larry had only intended to purchase dish soap and candy, Dave insisted, “You served us. It’s our turn to serve you now.”
Larry was given the opportunity to go around the store and select whatever he needed. The total bill came to $278, and Larry wiped tears from his eyes as Dave and the team settled it.
Overwhelmed by the unexpected act of kindness, Larry shared, “This is just like overwhelming. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was 13.”
Larry’s story serves as a poignant reminder that the support and care we provide to those who have sacrificed for their country can make a significant difference in their lives, especially during challenging times.
The Gift of Fido
The silence in my small house had grown louder with each passing year. Old and alone, the days stretched out, often indistinguishable from one another. I thought about getting a dog, a creature that would fill the emptiness, a warm presence against the encroaching quiet.
One chilly afternoon, shuffling through the familiar streets, I saw him. A small, scruffy shape huddled near a bin, dirty and clearly hungry. He looked up as I approached, his eyes wide but without fear. I knelt down slowly, offering a tentative hand. He didn’t flinch. I stroked his matted fur, spoke softly to him. When I stood up to leave, he simply followed, a silent, trusting shadow.
Now, he is my dog. My Fido. I am his human, his owner, though it feels more like we own each other. The silence is gone, replaced by the soft pad of his paws, the occasional sigh, the happy thump of his tail against the floor.
I talk to him constantly, sharing my thoughts, my worries, the mundane details of my day. He answers in his own way – a tilt of the head, a soft whine, or his favorite response, a vigorous wash of my hand with his rough tongue.
“Fido,” I’d told him just the other day, the worry etching lines deeper into my face, “tomorrow we won’t have anything to eat. The retirement money is gone, finished. We’ll have to wait until pension day!” He just licked my hand, as if to say, “We’ll figure it out, together.”
And then that blessed day arrives. I join the queue, a line of fellow retirees, each clutching their worn pension book, shattered by time and use. My own is tight in my hands, a thin lifeline. Fido, tied patiently nearby, shakes himself happily, a little dance of anticipation. He knows this day. He knows that today the bowls will be fuller, the meal a little richer, a little better than the thin gruel of the days before.
Winter arrives, wrapping the house in its cold embrace. Without a fire, the air bites. But Fido is there. Curled tightly against my legs on the worn armchair, or tucked beside me in bed, his small body is a furnace, a constant, reliable source of warmth that chases away the chill. He is more than just a dog; he is my living, breathing blanket against the cold world.
The first hesitant rays of spring find us sitting outside, bathed in the gentle warmth of the returning sun. We sit in comfortable silence, simply existing, together, grateful for the light, for the warmth, for each other. And from deep within my heart, a simple prayer is born, a quiet whisper of profound gratitude: “Thank you, Lord, for creating the dog.” For creating Fido, who found me when I was alone, and filled my life with warmth, conversation, and unwavering companionship.
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