She Makes Us Wear Her Colors

Pinning the sky in place, a brilliance of red-white-and-blue is on the bridge above where I exit to get to work. Since my car takes the ramp that circles in a U around it, every morning and afternoon I see it from various angles, blending with beautiful every-day shades of sun. I can envision the tattered edges of that old American flag even now. The wind curls it into a crescent shape, and then spreads it smooth as silk along the line of the sky. Seeing it in the tired hours of the morning makes my heart swell and feel stronger somehow. When I feel like I am only one - working towards an endless cause as one meaningless bolt in the clock-work of America - one eye on that flag makes me want to stand straighter and work harder. I feel a part of something. I feel proud.

It inspires me to stir passion back up in the hearts of the average American people. Not just any old passion. A passion for America. Did I say politicians? No. Did I say Congress? No. Did I say the economy, or the court systems, or the media? No. I said America. She is always under our feet, regardless of the global warming terrors of the day. She will always have been founded the same way… one Nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
If America were a football team, would we all wear her colors? Would we cheer her on? I think we would. We would stand behind her no matter what the wins or losses, what players or coaches come and go, and what fans were sympathetic to our cause. We would fight - in and out of season. THAT is America. We work, we dispute, we love, we fight, but in the end we all live together.