Ðe Angelus
V. Ðe Bode of ðe Lord made it cnoƿn to Mary.
R. And she became ƿið child of ðe Holy Ghost.
Hail Mary, full of gift,
ðe Lord is ƿið ðee.
Eadig art ðu among ƿimmen,
and eadig is ðe bloom of ðy ƿomb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
bid for us sinners,
noƿ and æt ðe tide of our deaþ.
Amen.
V. Behold ðe maiden of ðe Lord.
R. Let it befall me æfter ðy ƿord.
Hail Mary, full of gift,
ðe Lord is ƿið ðee.
Eadig art ðu among ƿimmen,
and eadig is ðe bloom of ðy ƿomb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
bid for us sinners,
noƿ and æt ðe tide of our deaþ.
Amen.
V. And ðe Ƿord ƿæs made flesh.
R. And ƿunede among us.
Hail Mary, full of gift,
ðe Lord is ƿið ðee.
Eadig art ðu among ƿimmen,
and eadig is ðe bloom of ðy ƿomb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
bid for us sinners,
noƿ and æt ðe tide of our deaþ.
Amen.
V. Bid for us, O holy Mother of God.
R. Ðæt ƿe may be made ƿor�� ðe behights of Christ.
Let us bid:
Shed forþ, ƿe bid ðee, O Lord, ðy gift into our hearts,
ðæt ƿe to ƿhom ðe infleshing of Christ ðy Son
ƿæs made cnoƿn by ðe bode of a heaven-errand,
may by his þoling and his Rood
be brought to ðe ƿuldor of his rising again.
Þrough ðe same Christ our Lord.
Amen.
If someone asks you how much a single family's life is worth to the United States Navy, tell them the exact price: ten million dollars of steel.
On April 29, 1975, as Saigon fell, a tiny two-seat wooden-and-fabric Cessna plane with almost no fuel left circled desperately above the American aircraft carrier USS Midway.
Inside that tiny cockpit, a father named Major Buang-Ly had crammed his wife and five small children, including a baby. He scribbled a note on a map, wrapped it around his pistol so it would not blow into the ocean, and dropped it onto the carrier deck.
A young American sailor picked up the crumpled paper and ran it up to Captain Lawrence Chambers.
The note read: "Can you move these helicopter to the other side, I can land on your runway, I can fly 1 hour more. Please rescue me. Major Buang, Wife and 5 child."
The flight deck of the USS Midway was completely jammed from bow to stern with military helicopters. A Cessna has no tailhook to catch carrier wires, and its pilot had never landed on a ship in his life.
By every military regulation, Captain Chambers had been in command for only five weeks. Throwing millions of dollars of U.S. government aircraft into the sea without permission from Washington could end his career in a court-martial.
Chambers looked up at the tiny plane circling in the wind with five children inside. He did not call an accountant in Washington.
"Clear the deck," the captain ordered.
Hundreds of young American sailors in yellow and green jerseys ran to the edge of the ship, put their shoulders against massive Huey helicopters, and shoved ten million dollars worth of machinery straight off the cliff into the South China Sea.
Captain Chambers turned the giant carrier into the wind at twenty-five knots. The tiny Cessna came down, bounced once on the steel runway, and rolled to a safe stop with feet to spare.
When the cockpit door opened and five small children stepped out onto the deck, three thousand American sailors roared so loud it drowned out the engines, and immediately passed around a hat to collect cash for the family's new life in America.
When the math says a child's life is too expensive, an American throws the math into the ocean.
@AI_kenky #1 has lowest chance of death/molestation, right? Sumo guys may be friendly. But they're still wearing their clothes from their practice so I might die from the sweat odors.