…that touch so deeply.
We have a girl living on our block who chose to join a combat unit. She was given several options, and chose artillery. She was given other options, and elected to join a unit like Elie’s with the same responsibilities. By the time she was entering the army, Elie was being given the task of commanding a unit of incoming soldiers. There was a 50-50 chance that Elie would have received her unit – another reason why Elie chose not to command a unit with female soldiers. They are friends of a sort; Elie is considered something of an older brother in the family and his being the commander of her unit would have been completely impossible.
So Elie opted to remain true to his religious beliefs and this neighbor’s daughter entered basic training. They spoke on the phone occasionally, Elie encouraging her when she needed it. A few weeks after basic training ended, she had an accident in the army and broke her foot…badly. For months now, she has been home.
Tomorrow she goes back to the army to rejoin her unit, which has been stationed up north. Elie too is on the same base, though with a different unit. My neighbor called to ask if I wanted her daughter to take anything to Elie.
I called Elie, offering to send brownies, cookies, whatever. He’s coming home on Thursday and expected to be out in the field for much of the week in training, so he told me not to bother sending anything. I’m glad he’ll be home and didn’t mind not sending anything…
…and then he called today and asked if I could send brownies. I think I smiled all day despite the dreary day. It’s such a small thing, but I like that he felt comfortable to ask; love that he wants these pieces of home.