We are thankful for the sacrifices of the brave emergency

Hear the solemn and noble words of Mike Parson, who declared: “We are thankful for the sacrifices of the brave emergency responders who risk their own lives to protect the lives and property of their fellow citizens.” In this utterance lies the ancient truth of duty and honor: that there are among us those who rise, not for riches, not for glory, but for the preservation of others. Their work is not born of selfish desire, but of courage rooted in service. To be thankful is not enough—it is to bow one’s heart in reverence for those who stand in the fire so that others may live.

The ancients, too, revered such figures. Among the Romans, the centurion was honored not for his command but for his willingness to stand in the front line, shield lifted, to guard those behind him. Among the Greeks, the tale of the Spartans at Thermopylae was told for centuries, not because they sought conquest, but because they chose to give their lives so their people might endure. In the same spirit, the emergency responders of our own age—firefighters, paramedics, police, and rescuers—take upon themselves the mantle of guardianship. Their battles are not waged with sword and spear, but with courage, speed, and selfless resolve.

Consider the day of September 11, 2001, when the towers of New York fell in smoke and ruin. As thousands fled downward, the firefighters ascended, step by step, into the furnace of death. They knew the risk; they felt the weight of fear; yet still they climbed. Many never returned. Their sacrifice was not in vain, for they became immortal in the memory of a nation, shining as examples of what it means to value another’s life above one’s own. Such stories give flesh to Parson’s words, reminding us that gratitude must always accompany remembrance.

To speak of sacrifice is to acknowledge the cost. It is not only the risk of the responders themselves, but the long nights borne by their families, the absence at dinners, the worry that lingers with every siren. Their sacrifices are not single moments of heroism, but lifetimes of service—days and years spent answering calls that most would flee from. To be thankful is to recognize this hidden price and to honor it not with words alone, but with respect and support.

There is in Parson’s words also a call to humility. For in times of comfort, it is easy to forget the guardians who stand ready. The citizen goes about his work, his home protected, his life undisturbed, because others remain vigilant. To remember this truth is to live with gratitude, not entitlement. It is to see that the safety of the many rests upon the courage of the few, and that this courage must never be taken for granted.

The lesson, then, is clear: honor those who protect you. Do not treat their service as invisible, nor their sacrifices as ordinary. Speak thankfulness aloud, support them in deeds, and live in such a way that their sacrifices are not squandered. For to honor the guardian is to strengthen the community, and to forget them is to weaken the very foundation of society.

Practical wisdom follows: when you see a responder, thank them; when the community has the chance, support them; when telling stories to your children, remind them that bravery is not only found in ancient heroes but in the men and women who rush into fire, flood, and peril today. Gratitude must be taught and lived, so that the chain of honor is never broken.

Thus, Mike Parson’s words resound not as mere acknowledgment, but as a teaching for generations: “We are thankful for the sacrifices of the brave emergency responders.” Remember them as you would remember the warriors of old, for they, too, stand on the front lines of danger. Be grateful, support them, and live in such a way that their courage is matched by your respect. In their sacrifice lies the strength of the community, and in your thankfulness lies its honor.