DAISIES BLOOM

DAISIES BLOOM
By Andy Weddington
Monday, 06 May 2019

Where flowers bloom so does hope. Lady Bird Johnson

Saturday morning past my wife and I flew home from the airport named in honor of President Ronald Reagan in Washington, D. C.

For whatever reason, my federal identification number is not recognized by American Airlines for TSA Pre-check.

And that is usually more than annoying for the inconvenience - of waiting in long snaking lines and having to remove clothing etc., and typically being subjected to vigorous screening.

But this trip the inconvenience fortuitous. 

In line just ahead of me was three small girls each clad in a bright blue-green vest adorned with patches. They held homemade patriotic signs. 

Their mothers quizzed them about the monument images on the wallpaper above the TSA checkpoint. 

The Washington Monument; the Capitol; Jefferson Memorial; and George Washington's home, the girls got them all. 

I asked a mom about the girls.

She told me they are Daisies (the childhood nickname of Juliette Gordon Low [founder of the Girl Scouts]) - the youngest cohort of Girl Scouts; for kindergarten and first grade girls.

They were at the airport to welcome honor flights.

The girls were excited. They understood. 

Another mom, wife of a veteran, told me how it important it is to start teaching them young. Without mention of being a Marine, I nodded and smiled. 

As I passed through security, came announcement an honor flight of World War II, Korea, and Vietnam veterans would soon arrive from Connecticut. 

A concert band from a local church played patriotic tunes. Some horn players looked old enough to be veterans eligible for the flight (and likely were). 

A huge crowd lined a path at the gate.

Announcement came the plane was on the ground.

Minutes later the agent opened the door and a parade, at rout step, of veterans - most walking - made slow passage shaking hands and posing for photographs.

The Daisies, holding signs, clapped and cheered.

Some veterans overwhelmed and brought to tears.

My wife noted Marines distinguished themselves by wearing USMC and/or emblem adorned ball caps (not the standard honor flight cap worn by the others). Of course Marines do that. Of course.

And not much more than thirty minutes later arrived another honor flight from Florida. 

The scene mirroring the first.

Old warriors came to visit their country's capital and war monuments. Closure for some.

Daisies welcomed them.

Parents of Daisies welcomed them. 

As did a big crowd from infant to elder. 

I observed it all from a seat at a gate a few yards across from the arrival gates.

When the band played the Marines Hymn I stood.

A Chinese couple seated to my front took notice. 

Only Chinese had I heard them speak so no idea if they understood what was going on and why I abruptly stood while others remained seated. 

Fifteen minutes later we boarded for Chicago. 

The veterans, especially the Marines, made a lasting impression on my wife (and me).

Those Daisies (and their moms) made a lasting impression on me.

And certainly a Saturday morning spent welcoming veterans to Washington, D. C. made a lasting impression on those Daisies; a great big lesson in selflessness and patriotism. 

I saw Daisies bloom. 

I saw hope. 

And pray young boys, too, bloom; but never as Daisies.