A Few Faces of Courage

 As I see it, courage has many faces.  Webster’s defines courage in several ways, one of which is, “the capacity to meet danger without giving way to fear.”  A second definition: “the courage of one’s convictions.”  And a third: “to become brave, to take one’s courage in both hands.”  I guess I would say simply that courage is to have the guts to face the issues of life and death bravely, not just as a soldier who might fall on a live grenade to save his fellows, but also in the day to day struggles many brave people face and continue on, despite extreme difficulties, discouragement and sorrow.

 World Wars I & II produced an Alvin York and an Audie Murphy.  Both received the highest military honor for bravery this country affords, the Congressional Medal.  It was said of the Marines on Iwo Jima that “Uncommon valor was a common virtue,” and having read much on that battle, I must concur.  I personally don’t know how any human being can withstand the misery and deprivation of such combat and retain a degree of sanity.  As a Navy corpsman attached to the Marines in WWII, and fortunately who never experienced combat, I was amazed to read that during the 30 days it took to secure Iwo from the Japanese, 21 doctors and 758 corpsmen were either killed or wounded.  Uncommon valor?  That’s for sure.

 However, there are other kinds of courage that seldom make the headlines or win medals.  At this writing, a family living a few miles from me, Greg and Jennifer Ruppe, are experiencing their own brand of courage.  Their unborn daughter was discovered to have a hole in her spine and the only way to save her was through an experimental procedure.  The baby was surgically removed from the mother at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville, the spine repaired, and placed back to await a Caesarean delivery later on.  Apparently all went well and mother and baby are improving.  The medical bills have piled up, but family, friends and local churches are funding the procedure.  What the outcome will be, only God knows.  It’s a study in courage.

 Still another little 8-year old girl, Sarah Graybill, whose parents Rusty and Sylvia, are friends of mine, was discovered to have brain cancer, and after surgery, is currently undergoing both radiation and chemotherapy treatments.  She has lost her hair and her eyesight, and her prognosis is poor.  But brave little soldier that she is, she can still smile.  Of course her parents and grandparents are devastated, as are their friends and church family.  May God bless the parents and their brave little girl.  Courageous?  I applaud them.

 Several years ago, shortly after my wife, Betty, died, I went to Dana, Indiana to visit the Ernie Pyle Historic Site.  I have long been an admirer of the little combat correspondent.  I stayed in a motel in Rockville, several miles west, and arrived the next morning at the Pyle house.  Before it opened for the day, I introduced myself to Mac, one of the tour guides, who was cleaning up the grounds.  He was about my age, but had seen extensive combat in WWII and limped from an old wound.  In our conversation, I mentioned that my wife had passed away suddenly a few months earlier and I still had a tough time adjusting.  Mac sort of smiled and said I was fortunate that she went quickly.  His wife of nearly 50 years had Alzheimer’s disease for the past 10.  She didn’t know him any longer, but he still waited on her totally.  That was in July, 1997.  I wonder what manner of courageous man can endure such a tragic situation.  Only God knows.  I wonder if she still lives.

 And so it’s true, courage does have many faces.  Another is my friend and Christian brother, Jim Maxey, who earlier has had a kidney transplant and has recently lost a lower leg, removed due to diabetes.   The remaining leg is presently in doubt, and his vision grows dimmer week by week.  He’s ten years my junior, but he’s more courageous than I believe I would ever be in the same circumstances.  He rarely complains and has retained his sense of humor and jolly disposition.  He’s an inspiration, and as I said in an earlier piece about Jim, he is high on my list of most admired men.  May God bless the Ruppes, the Graybills, Mac, and my friend Jim Maxey.  It occurs to me, each is a study in remarkable courage.