Donation

Donation

by

C.M. Marcum

I took my turn at the cash register and offered up my credit card.

“Would you care to make a donation to Haiti?” the cashier asked.  I could tell that she had repeated this line a hundred times today.

“I’ve all ready have made a donation,” I said.  “I sent them my son.  He’s on board the USS Comfort, and he tells me that he’s working sixteen hours a day.  I saw the ship on Headline News today.”

Seeing the ship gave me some comfort.  I was happy to see it anchored off shore.  The water appeared very calm.  Good, very good.

He called me one day—was it only last week—and said that the Navy was asking for volunteers.  And what did I think of that.”

I said, “My son, our biggest regrets in life always turn out to be the things that we did not do.”

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