As a journalist, it seems to become a bit cliché to write the obligatory Veterans Day column during the second week in November every year.

Of course, there is that essential need to show our respect and reverence for the men and women who have given everything: blood, sweat, tears, and even the very breath of life for us and the freedoms to which we so proudly cling in this great nation of ours. But then, we're always faced with that age-old conflict of a writer, the one that asks, 'hasn't it been said before, written before, sang before and broadcast before?' How is it that, with pen or keyboard, we are supposed to come up with a new way to express how very much we owe to those courageous American heroes?

That is the question, or challenge, rather, that I faced this week, and I admit I nearly wavered. Patriotic as I am in my heart, I almost gave in to the temptation to write about something lighter, leaving the Veterans Day veneration to those in higher places, the CNN reporters or Washington Times journalists whose words and reflections reach a far broader audience than mine.

But then, as I stood at the first of several local Veterans Day ceremonies Monday at Concord University, I realized that in no year has it ever been, or will it ever be, more important for us to show our gratitude to our veterans during this very special week dedicated in their honor. At the Concord Veteran's Appreciation celebration, Congressman Nick Rahall spoke to a large crowd of students and faculty members about the war in Iraq and how many of our soldiers are coming home to little or no support from an American people torn so stubbornly along political lines.

As Rahall begged for the unconditional backing our troops need and deserve, regardless of what we think of the policies sending them to war, I saw that at this time in our history, my expression of thanks is more crucial than ever. In times like these, it is our duty to use whatever voice we have been given, loud or quiet, big or small, to show those willing to pay the ultimate sacrifice for us how very grateful we are.

And, in my quest to find some way to express that appreciation in this column, it is a very small voice that I have decided to use, not my own, but that of young Lauren Stewart, a local elementary student who last Veterans Day taught me a lesson of respect and honor that I haven't forgotten to this day. I wrote about Lauren, in fact, in this column last year, but hers was a timeless lesson worth retelling, so I chose to share it again this week. In an effort to reflect upon the essence of Veterans Day, I am certain I could never say it better than her.

It was the day before Veterans Day last year when I first met little Lauren. She and her kindergarten classmates in Karen Thorn's Princeton Primary classroom were beginning to color Veterans Day coloring books when one of the teacher's patriotic albums began to play in the background. It took me be surprise when, as the music rang through the air, Lauren stopped what she was doing, raised her tiny hand to her head, and saluted.

I can still remember how surreal that scene seemed, this little girl not yet old enough to understand the complexities of wars and freedom but still respecting the magnitude of meaning behind those symbolic stars and stripes. As I observed that honest gesture, I looked inside myself and saw that though I may know much more than Lauren about the battles that have been fought and the lives that have been lost in protection of our country, it was she who could teach me something about true gratitude for those great sacrifices.

As she remained at attention, Lauren's eyes mirrored nothing but genuine reverence for our great nation and the men and women who have fought to keep it free. As I looked into those eyes, I wondered if my own had ever reflected such a deep and unwavering appreciation for the freedom that we too often take for granted.

I suppose Lauren's salute went rather unnoticed by others in the classroom. Her classmates around her continued to color and eat their Veterans Day treats and I realized that I was the only one watching her powerful demonstration of pure patriotic pride. Too quickly, the meaningful moment was over as Lauren dropped her hand and went back to her crayons.

She took her salute in stride, not knowing that with that one simple gesture, she had taught me more than I had ever known about the price of our freedom. This year, maybe all of us can learn something from the wise action of that special child.

CharLy Markwart is a Princeton Times reporter.