You know about Sleeping Beauty and Snow White and Ariel and Belle and all those other chicks who needed a prince to save them, right?

Have you met this princess?

Allow me to introduce you to the Princess-Who-Can-Defend-Herself.

She sits in my friend Susan’s office.

Do you know Susan?  How can you not!  She is this amazing blogger, astrophysicist, mom, writer, activist and oh yeah cancer survivor.

While I love the sentiment of  not teaching our children that the only way girls can be saved is by a muscle-bound man who swoops in on a blazing white steed–or beat up old truck for that matter–I do know when a princess could use some help.

Susan had an awful day yesterday–and I mean awful by ANYONE’s standards.  And yet?  She wrote a beautiful post about being lucky.

She blows me away.

I can’t make my friend’s cancer disappear–and damn I wish I had been put on this planet to do just that–but I can let her know that I am lucky to have her friendship, that I love her and I totally have her back if she does happen to run into that bitch cancer in a dark alley.  I’ll even bring a baseball bat to knock the wench out of this universe.

I want Susan to know that she is not alone.  Yes, the fight is hers, but she has an army of princesses (and princes) behind her.

Want to join me?

Take this badge.  Put it on your blog (it links to her post referenced above).

<a href="http://toddlerplanet.wordpress.com/2011/01/22/us-lucky/"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5126/5379798874_d4ea53e42d_m.jpg" alt="No Princess Alone button" width="125" height="125" /></a>

Let me know below in the comments that you’re with us*, then go visit Susan and let her know you’re in her army now.

Why?

Because each and every one of us–we are lucky.

*for every blog that posts this button, I will find a way to donate $1 to Crickett’s Answer.  I’m totally stealing this idea from Kristen and Jessica,  but I thought it rocked and our friend needs us. Oh and if you want to donate money to Crickett’s Answer too, please do.

She was due to give birth to her first baby in June.

He had been honorably discharged as an officer in the Air Force for health reasons, but he felt such a duty to his country he enlisted as a private in the Army. He was on base away from home getting ready to ship out with his company.

A wise, compassionate company commander knew that Morgan’s wife was about to give birth. He also knew that once he sent Morgan over seas there was a good chance he might not come home. That gentleman risked his own military career to ensure that another man had the chance to meet his daughter–if only for one day.

My mom was born in mid June 1944. My grandfather spent exactly 24 hours with her and set sail for Europe.

The company in which my grandfather served was sent to France for the D-Day invasion. Many of his buddies did not survive.

Because of an incredible commanding officer, my grandfather missed the invasion by a few weeks and though he waited two more years to see his daughter he lived to hold her and raise her and love her, her sister and two grand-daughters to follow.

I was just four when he died, but I know he loved me like only a grandfather can–like only a man who loved his country so much he went back to serve when he didn’t have to can–like only a man who loves his fellow man enough to risk his own career to allow another to see his daughter can.

For those men, for the men in my grandfather’s company who didn’t survive, for the men and women who serve today I am eternally grateful.

Come back tomorrow to read about a veteran of an entirely different sort.