When I was old enough, my father taught me to track.  He taught me simply and without prejudice how to distinguish between different animals and different races of people by how they walked.  Indians (Native Americans), for example, traditionally carry their weight on their toes; whites are prominent in their heels; Asians on the insides, and Africans on the outsides.  My father never once mentioned it, but I found out at his funeral he NEVER lost a man on night patrol while serving in Korea.  Eight years and he never once lost one man.  He was blood brothers with a Comanche in a ceremony he did not fully understand because he was only a half-blood.  But what I learned from him is that our footprint reveals a lot about us.  Former Arizona governor Jan Brewer said:

“My mother always told me that as you go through life, no matter what you do, or how you do it, you leave a little footprint, and that’s your legacy.”

I so believe that.  I want to leave a footprint behind that is strong and deep in the earth like my father’s.  I want my footprint to be beautiful and lasting like my mother’s.  I want my footprint to carry far into the generations, and I want my precious child Maris to know that more than anything she bears the footprint of her heritage, her honor, her loyalty, her bravery, and her love.  The life we have lived is what we leave behind; it is our footprint.