As darkness fell outside the First Baptist Church of Glen Este about halfway through the service for Pfc. Matt Maupin, Pastor Brent Snook said, "All of us should ask ourselves, 'What if I was in Matt's place right now - what if it was me?' "

That's something to think about.

It was easy during the emotional, uplifting service to imagine what it's like for Matt's family - feeling the love and support of a thousand singing voices washing over you, yet knowing they still can't push back the pain and worry that waits outside in the night.

Any parent can imagine what they are going through - if we try. And that small effort is what separates people who care from those who don't.

It's why people like Teri Eyer of Batavia and more than 1,000 others came out on a rainy night. They care.

"Because it hits so close to home," Eyer explained. She didn't know Matt or the Maupin family. But her response is what makes small-town Batavia so different from big-city Cincinnati.

I saw it when we went to war, and Batavia rallied to support the troops while antiwar protesters yawped on Fountain Square. And I saw it again last night when the crowd stood and sang "I'm Proud to be an American." They can wave flags and reach out to someone in trouble because they don't have both hands full of cynical doubts and pretentious baggage.

In red-white-and-blue America, nearly everyone has a father, brother, son or uncle who served in the military. They support the troops because they know them, like they know Matt.

And they are a loooong way from the elites who act like this is someone else's war, waged by someone else's president, fought by someone else's children who defend someone else's America.

"Great victories are won when ordinary people perform their assigned tasks. Our assigned task is to support the troops," the pastor said. "Our troops volunteered to rescue our nation from terrorism. They are the heroes of our land. We can volunteer to pray for them."

It's that simple. Like light piercing darkness, hope overcomes the voices of defeat.

A 12-year-old boy was introduced. You may have heard of Jacob Kelch, who walked a mile each way to hand-deliver his letter urging the Maupins to "keep your faith in God" and promising, "I will keep (Matt) in my mind and prayers." Jacob sat next to Matt Maupin's father, Keith, where Matt would be sitting.

As they left the service, the bushy-bearded dad whose son has been kidnapped by terrorists reached over with a big hand and gave the boy a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder - and that more than any of the words that night said all we need to know about the power of love, faith and hope to mend broken hearts.

I guess the answer is that I don't know if I could do what Matt Maupin has done. When the preacher talked about the man who laid down his life for the rest of us, it was sometimes hard to tell if he was talking about Jesus or the troops in Iraq. That's what Matt has done.

I don't know if I could ever do that. But I can pray for those who do. And I know this much: If I were Matt Maupin, I would hope there would be a Batavia and a First Baptist Church of Glen Este and a thousand people to sing and pray and fill the night with candles to light the way home.

"I pray that God will help Matt to sense the support he is getting tonight," Pastor Snook said.

As I drove home in the dark, it was nice to know there are islands of bright light, holding back the night.

E-mail pbronson@enquirer.com or call 768-8301.