Our budget works to reduce and eliminate the risk of attacks at

So spoke Jim Ryun, servant of the people and guardian of the nation’s well-being: “Our budget works to reduce and eliminate the risk of attacks at our ports, rails, in the skies, our food supply and roads by allowing for increases in many of the programs and agencies to help protect these important areas of commerce and travel.” His words are weighty, not because they speak of wealth or profit, but because they strike at the heart of security and survival. For what is a nation without safe passage, without secure food, without protected roads? These are not luxuries—they are the very lifelines of a people.

At the center of Ryun’s words lies the truth that commerce and travel are the veins through which the lifeblood of civilization flows. The farmer who grows grain depends on roads to carry it, the merchant depends on ports to ship it, the family depends on food untainted by fear. Without safety in these realms, no culture can flourish. Thus, to build a budget that strengthens them is to build a fortress not of stone, but of vigilance and foresight.

The ancients knew this truth well. The Romans, masters of empire, understood that their roads were more valuable than their armies, for the road carried not only legions but grain, goods, and messages across the empire. To secure the roads was to secure Rome itself. When those roads faltered—when bandits multiplied, when supply chains broke—the empire began to crumble from within. Likewise, Ryun’s words echo this eternal wisdom: protect the arteries of commerce and travel, and the body of the nation lives.

We see another example in the Great Wall of China, raised not merely as a monument of pride but as a shield to safeguard the trade routes of the Silk Road. It was not only soldiers who were protected, but merchants, caravans, and the goods that nourished economies. For rulers who understood, defense of trade and travel was defense of life itself. History teaches us again and again: when these systems are vulnerable, nations fall prey not only to enemies, but to famine, poverty, and despair.

And yet, Ryun’s words also reveal something greater: that prevention is as noble as valor. It is not only the warrior on the battlefield who defends the people, but also the planner who invests wisely, the steward who ensures that the budget strengthens defenses before disaster strikes. The hero is not only the soldier who repels the invader but also the statesman who makes the attack impossible. This is a higher form of courage—quiet, unseen, but essential.

The lesson for us, then, is clear: safeguard what sustains life. Protect your foundations before they are shaken. Just as a nation must guard its ports, rails, and food supply, so too must each of us guard our own sources of strength—our families, our values, our health, our communities. Neglect them, and weakness enters unnoticed; preserve them, and peace endures.

Practically, this means vigilance and preparation in our daily lives. Strengthen the bonds of trust in your community. Support the systems that feed and protect others, even if their importance seems hidden. Do not wait for disaster to awaken your concern—act now, as the wise act, with foresight. For in preparation, peace is preserved, and in vigilance, life continues without fear.

Thus, Jim Ryun’s words echo like the counsel of the ancients: the prosperity of a nation is secured not only by courage in battle, but by the wisdom to protect the roads, skies, ports, and food that sustain its people. Let us heed this wisdom in our own time, for a nation is strong not when it boasts of wealth or armies, but when its people can walk, trade, eat, and live in peace, unafraid of the shadows that threaten from without.