Grandpa’s Parade

“Mommy!  Mommy!”  Three-year-old Allison came running into the kitchen from the living room.  “When’s the Fourth?”

“Fourth?  The Fourth of July?” 

Allison nodded excitedly. 

“In a couple of days, why do you ask?”

“That’s Gran’pa’s parade!  He’s goin’ to march and everything.”

“That’s right.  All of the local Veterans will be in that parade.”

“Gran’pa said that they’ll all be dressed up in their uniforms and there’ll be bands playing their special songs.  ‘From the halls of Mont’zuma, To the shores of Trip’li,’” she sang in an exuberant voice.  “I can hardly wait!”

Her mother laughed.  “Well, it’ll only be two more days.”

“Gran’pa said he couldn’t wave to me but he’d be sure to smile and wink!”

“I’m sure he will do that.”

Allison could think of little else.  She’d seen parades on television with the crowds lining the street and all of the bands, brightly colored flags and uniforms, but she couldn’t even imagine actually being there.  Even better, Grandpa would be marching.

Every time she saw a reference to the Holiday on television, Allison’s excitement grew.  A real parade!  Grandpa will be in it and I’ll be there!

When she woke up from a nap the first thing she asked was, “Is it the Fourth yet?”

Each time her mother laughed and told her, “Not yet.  Soon.”

At last the morning came.  Allison was so excited that she couldn’t even sit still to eat her breakfast.  She thought the moment would never come, but finally she got into the car with her parents for the drive downtown.  As soon as they had parked, she clamored to get out; she tugged on her mom and dad’s hands all the way to the parade route.

There were more people than Allison had ever seen before lining both sides of the street.  Pointing to an area that looked a bit less crowded than most her daddy said, “This ought to be as good a spot as any.”

Allison waited impatiently as more and more people crowded around them.  When distant music was heard over the noise of the gathering, everyone rushed forward with excited squeals.  Allison found herself surrounded by half-bare bodies.  As the music swelled, Allison craned her neck, stooped down and even wiggled this way and that but, try as she might, couldn’t see more than the upper tips of the flags or marching feet.

“Daddy!  Daddy!” she cried, tugging on his pants’ leg.  “I can’t see anything!”

Her father squatted down and, taking her hands, helped her climb up onto his shoulders.  When he stood back up Allison squealed with delight; it seemed as if she could see for miles.  Laughing happily, she clapped her hands in time with louder music than she’d ever heard and watched the colorful uniforms and shiny instruments pass by.

When the vets began passing Allison looked at the row after row of troops who all looked alike and frowned.

“Daddy, where’s Grandpa?  I can’t find him.”

“Be patient, Alli, he’s in another branch.”

Finally she heard the familiar tune of The Marine’s Hymn and bounced with excitement.  Grandpa would be in this group.

Her hopes began to fall as the rows passed and she couldn’t pick him out.  They still looked all alike.  Then her dad pointed,  “There he is!”

Her gaze following his pointing finger Allison found the well-loved face.  “Hi,
Gran’pa!” she shouted, waving both arms.

The old man turned his head slightly in her direction; a big smile split his face and he gave her a broad wink.

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