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Sunday, May 01, 2022

Standing on Sacred Sand

During the past couple of weeks, I've been traveling. I've seen a healthy swath of France along the Seine River, stretching from Paris to the Normandy beaches of D-Day. My expectations for this trip were low, considering it had been twice postponed due to Covid. I didn't expect such a wonderful experience.

From what I have seen, France is a beautiful country. Although I had never thought about visiting Paris, I found it is a vibrant, fascinating place that is also quite welcoming to its international guests. The cities and towns visited during the cruise north were unfailingly charming and picturesque. The French people are friendly, and almost all that I encountered spoke English impressively well. The trip was one lovely surprise after another.

My main goal was to see the D-Day battleground. It was a full day's trip to visit the Utah and Omaha beaches and the American cemetery, and we were fortunate to have sunny weather. Our tour guide was young, but he knew the history of World War II well. I learned a great deal about the days leading up to and following the June 6, 1944, invasion. But the most significant part of the tour was stepping onto the sand of Omaha Beach. I felt as though I should remove my shoes, as Moses did when he stood before the burning bush on "hallowed ground." There is a feel about the place, an aura in the windy air that can't be described, only experienced. If you've ever been to the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor, you'll get the idea.

The tide was low when I stood on the beach, but not as low as it had been for our soldiers who had to storm through that valley of death. The tide needed to be low for them to reveal the deadly obstacles that the Nazis had placed in the water. But low tide just meant so much more beach ahead of them. Where such courage comes from, I cannot fathom.

Even now, the people of Normandy province are grateful to the Americans of D-Day. More than one guide spoke reverentially of France's liberation at Normandy; one guide repeatedly called it "a miracle." There are numerous monuments dotting the verdant countryside, all commemorating the American soldiers. In our troubled times here at home, it was heartwarming to see such appreciation for what our military forces accomplished in France near the end of the second World War.

With a prayer that I wasn't being disrespectful, I took a small seashell from the beach. It now sits on my kitchen shelf, by the sink. That's where I know I'll see it every day and remember to say "thank you" once again.

Omaha Beach ~ Normandy, France