inkedgirl

I live in a wonderful community; we watch each other's children, we car pool, we go out to lunch together, we party together, we do practically everything together. At the beginning of the summer, our largest and oldest tree fell victim to the seasons first storm. I watched as our landlords husband and a few other men solemnly cut it into firewood. That tree has given us shade over our picnic tables, created privacy for us from the road, and most importantly, let our children swing from its branches. We were all quite sad to see it go, but we also knew the fall would be full of warm bonfires fed by its wood. The day before yesterday I came home to a very pleasant surprise.

A piece of that tree with a note attached was sitting on my porch. It read:

You are invited to join your community tonight at 8pm by the picnic tables to have our first bonfire of the fall in memory of the victims of September 11, 2001. Please come & dont forget your block of wood to add to the fire.

When I went to the memorial after class, we had two bonfires blazing wildly. Their flames danced high into the night sky and as I approached them, I realized the whole fire was made up of those little blocks we all received. I felt such a sense of community at that very moment and couldnt help but get sentimental. I quietly tossed my block into the fire and stood quietly, thinking about the fires heat. I leaned closer and closer to the flames until I couldnt breathe and my skin was screaming in pain. I knew those five seconds were nothing in comparison to what anyone felt that fateful day -- not by a long shot. The real difference was: I was moving into the fire; the fire wasnt moving into me. I walked away in silence thinking about that as I wiped a tear out of my eye before anyone could see it.

Larry, one of the most animated people in our community, attended three memorials yesterday for the loss of his fallen brothers that died September 11th. He is a firefighter and he runs the local Firehouse closest to us. I feel lucky to have such a person as a member of our community and I didnt know anything else to do besides wrap my arms around him and tell him how brave and wonderful he was. I told him, I heard a lot of people say that Firefighters dont need to be glorified as heroes today. They said its what you guys signed up for and you should not be praised for merely doing your job. Well Larry, I just want to tell you I respect you so much for signing up for that job because it is a bravery Ill never know.

He hugged my neck as he tried to hold back tears and said, Your support means more to us than youll ever know. Its been a long day.

Im passionate about my country because beyond all the politics stand people like my friend Larry. No ones pretending hes perfect, but he is a hero, nonetheless. To me, heroes are normal people who reach beyond themselves to do something great. They are selfless, they are brave, and they should be recognized for that whether or not they signed up for it. Im passionate about my country because I know more good people than I know bad people and those good people make up my country. I dont hate America and I never will. America is my home in Memphis, my birthplace in Missouri, and my family in Mississippi. America is my friends scattered across the country. America allowed me the freedom to meet good people all across this nation whom I may never get a chance to really meet. America is my sentimentality. It is the wet noses of my cats greeting me when I come home and the swift nips they give me on my feet for attention & the warmth of my lover against me at night. America is so much more than the ugliness of corrupt politics.

America is home.