It was Veteran’s Day. My father was old and bent, remembering. My sons were young and strong, and they remembered, too. They remembered, and they called him. “Papa,” they said, “we want to thank you for fighting in the war. We want to thank you for risking your life for our country.” Then my father called me. He had to fight his way through the tears. “All these years," he said, "and no one has ever thanked me.”
“Ten lepers begged Him to have mercy on them. . . . Now one of them, when he saw that he had been healed, turned back . . . and he fell on his face at His feet, giving thanks to Him. . . . And Jesus answered and said, ‘Were there not ten cleansed? But the nine -- where are they?’ ” Luke 17:11-17