A Different World

I remember a world that was far different from the world I woke up in this morning. I remember parades in every town great or small, and not just Christmas, or New Year’s Day. I remember the flag being waved, not stomped. I remember a time, a time when the expression, “Write your congressman” wasn't the worn out punch line to a tired old joke. I remember a man who would never turn his back on the need to defend his country against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and those who swore that oath forswore themselves. And I was that man.

I wrote an article, not long ago, No Taxation Without Representation, that got me to wondering. Did I have the courage to do a thing that was once patriotic, but now illegal? Indeed, there were times when people had to make the choice to do something that is patriotic and illegal. It has been a terrible few weeks because the more I thought about it, the more I see how our government has been closing off all the rational approaches to patriotism. I produce media that I hope will arouse others to patriotism, but up until today I've been unable to honestly say where the line between talk and action is.  A time where the love of country is considered lies!

What happened is I woke up today, and I didn't know that it would be a day much different than those days that have come to represent how different the world has become. I rose, I prayed, I drank coffee as I checked the News Feeds, and my email. I shaved, bathed and dressed, and finally I offered up an extra prayer, as I often do on those days when I find myself among such people of our still great nation, who still have enough red blood in them to meet unbidden to discuss freedom.

What made today different is that I saw someone different than most of us. Someone who does not wonder what they will do for their country, and for our freedom, even if we don't celebrate their sacrifice. A true heroine, not in uniform, not strong of limb or a leader of troops, but rather a little girl. Small in stature, but with the courage of a child raised to believe that she is as good as anyone, and the conviction of a child wrongly orphaned. A few precious moments with her restored me to that time I thought long gone. It wasn’t such a different world after all.  Back when we were all in this thing together.

I'll say no more, for what else is there to say? I saw a little girl today. A girl whose father was cut down on national television in front of all of us, yet whose voice has not been stilled! If you, too, what has become of your world, indeed, of your own lives and spirits, if you do not like this different world in which we live, join me in supporting that little girl!