This is my sister. She is grown with kids and married -careered and all that now. I am blessed by her. In these eyes, in this expression, is the evidence of things to come. She has faced it all down, and, by the way, don't mess with her kids. We so often mistake courage and fortitude of character. We decorate people who push buttons and bomb strangers a half a world away, but neglect the warriors in the trenches dealing with the hand to hand combat of life's battles. My sister is a social worker. She survived time in inner city Kansas City - hands and soul immersed in the belly of the beast. She has given her life, her heart, and a battleship load of energy and effort to the cause of helping broken people. She is fighter in a battle that never ends. A battle fought with no resources, no glory, and no holidays to commemorate the fallen. She has suffered physical assault, situations that would scare the hell out of most enlisted men, she has soldered through budget cut, and disappointment, and the ever present neglect of the helpers of the neglected. While we watch the wars abroad, and pay our tributes to the fighters of political expedience, the real fight goes on under our noses. On our streets, in our schools, and in the scary pools of broken and hopeless souls. My sister has given her life to this ugly battleground, and somehow has so much more to give her friends and family, and her brother. You keep going. I salute you.