By My life has not always been easy. They say that life deals the cards, and I’ve been dealt more than a few rough hands.
In poker, no one can help us when we’re sitting at the table trying to decide whether to hold ’em or fold ’em. We’re alone with the cards.
Fortunately, life’s not a poker game.
In life we’re never alone. When my friends are struggling, I try to be there for them.
And when I’m down, somebody always gives me a hand back up.
Undeserved but welcome acts of kindness have saved me, time and time again – and I’m grateful.
In life we get to help others and be helped in return.
Sometimes that kindness can come from an unlikely source – in my case, a gruff, hard-ass sergeant during a military exercise.
Let’s set the stage.
As a member of the Montana Army National Guard, I was in training for possible deployment. We were sent out into Death Valley, a place where we welcomed 100-degree weather as a cool day.
Seemed like an unlikely place to find kindness.
The training had been grueling and trying. I was struggling to come to terms with the assault I had experienced from my direct supervisor.
The sun had just set, plunging the desert into darkness as I sat in the back of one of our supply trucks.
I had spent the last 10 minutes staring at the pistol I had been assigned.
I’d memorized the slide and safety, how they were supposed to move together. I still remember how the grip felt in my hand as I trembled.
I saw the whole process in my head. As though it had already happened. I heard the action of the slide. I thought I heard the rasp of a bullet entering the chamber.
The darkness outside reflected the darkness within.
Then I remember, clear as a bell, the sound the pistol made as I slid the magazine clear of its grip.
In this moment of absolute despair, deep in the dark of the desert night, I found a kernel of strength left and sought help.
I managed to leave the back of that truck and find a sergeant I trusted.
He was a no-nonsense, gravelly voiced man who had a mean Elmo impression. And as I walked up to him, the confusion was evident on his face.
The confusion turned to shock when I handed him the magazine for my pistol and racked back the slide before handing him that as well.
I told him I didn’t feel safe with it and that I didn’t think I was OK.
I expected anger, perhaps fear.
I did not expect kindness.
“It’s OK, Romo. I’m here and you are doing the right thing.”
He cleared the weapon, pocketed it, and put his arm around my shoulder.
He led me to our First Sergeant and stayed with me until they took me back to the aid station for the night. He helped me get ready for my flight home to get to a better place.
His voice is the one I hear when I fight those intrusive, harmful thoughts. His words are the ones I repeat to myself when I’m in a dark place.
Those words have also comforted others, who found themselves in a place I recognized all too well.
That squad leader’s kindness brought light to my darkest night.
So, for anyone out there who might be stuck in the dark…
It’s OK. I’m here.
You are doing the right thing.
Josiah Romo
