My dad told me a story from his days in Army basic training, shortly after he was drafted in 1951 for the Korean War effort. He and his platoon had been marching all day in the rain, and at nightfall, they had to set up tents in the rain and try to eat their rations before they were waterlogged. Everyone was tired and hungry, and in his effort to figure out how to open the can of rationed beans that was to be dinner, the can flipped out of my dad’s hands, landing in the mud and spreading beans all over. That was his dinner, all he would have to eat until the next morning.

To their discredit, most of the other members of his platoon laughed at my dad’s plight while they ate their beans. But there was one soldier who saw what happened and shared his beans with my dad, and he’s the one who makes me cry each time I think about this story. He saw a need that he could do something about, and he met it.

When my dad told me this story, he said he never found out what that guy’s name was. They didn’t become friends, and after basic training, they went their separate ways. But he never forgot him, and neither will I. So, Unknown Soldier who shared his rations with my dad, thank you. You showed me that while we can’t fix everything in the world, sometimes we can help one person by putting ourselves in their shoes and responding with what we have to offer. Even if it is a can of rationed beans.