God's Pattern in Life's Pieces

“Greater love has no one than this: that someone lay down his life for his friends.”
John 15:13

Bruce Cargo was a young man when he walked into the jungles of Vietnam. Thousands of miles from his family in Port Huron, Michigan—surrounded by the confusion of war—Bruce carried the honor of his nation and the fervor of his mission.

The fragile state of his own mortality pressed in every day, stealing oxygen from the lungs of hope.

Back in Port Huron, the Cargo family surrendered the use of a ping-pong table for a more noble cause. That table became an assembly line. And while shoeboxes were filled each week, what truly got delivered to the jungle was hope, love, courage, and gratitude. Don and Eunice Cargo wanted to obliterate any remnant of concern that their son’s efforts were forgotten or ignored.

Each week in the Cargo household, love became tangible—even edible. Don, a Navy veteran himself, carefully wrapped each item and positioned it with purpose inside the box—Vienna sausages, paperback books, magazines, snacks… the scent of home, the expression of love. Ammunition for the heart.

Traditions and celebrations were not to be overlooked, even from more than 8,000 miles away. In the Cargo household, a three-layer chocolate cake was more than a birthday tradition—it was a cornerstone. So, on Bruce’s birthday in late April, the necessary elements for a perfectly constructed cake were packaged on West Village Lane. Eunice baked, and Don packed. Dark, rich chocolate layers surrounded by popcorn (as the packing material) and a can of frosting (this would never have happened at home, but the realities of war demanded innovation and compromise).

In due time, a birthday party arrived in the jungles of Southeast Asia. On his return, Bruce reported that not only was the cake consumed—but so was the packing material. Hungry soldiers. Homesick hearts.

A shoebox. A lifeline. Love becoming flesh. Weekly. Fuel for a soldier’s soul. A compass in the chaos.

No cell phone. No internet. But love on demand.

A shoebox. A proxy. A placeholder until the day Bruce would arrive at Detroit Metro Airport.

From the dangers of battle, Bruce returned to a toxic political atmosphere that overlooked his sacrifice—even dismissed it. But not at home. Not then. Not now.

Bruce knew he was loved, respected, admired, and celebrated—and he is to this day.

A hero.

On April 8th, 1978, I married Bruce Cargo’s sister. On that same day, I became the son-in-law of Don and Eunice Cargo.

I remain humbled by Bruce’s gift of freedom to me. I remain inspired by Don and Eunice’s example of love.

Veterans Day. Time to fill a shoebox. Time to embrace a hero. Time to steward the sacrifice. Time to confront the toxicity. Time to convert a ping-pong table into an assembly line.

On behalf of a grateful nation—

Thank you, Bruce Cargo.

And to Eunice and Don—Mom and Dad—I honor your legacy, your commitment, your faithfulness, your love… one shoebox at a time.

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