Going Fourth

Hello Friends!

I’m writing this a bit early as I’m leaving in the morning to travel. A daughter, son-in-law, and six grandchildren will be waiting and I am excited! Grandmommy has her knitting (in case there is some down-time), a bag of arts and crafts supplies, and a couple of new games to play. If I have time, I may bake some cookies.

When I return home, we will be in full-on America 250 Celebration. Since I was around for the 200^th, I do have a few thoughts to share.

In 1976 I was twelve years old. The celebration began with a trip to Washington D.C. to compete in the National Spelling Bee. I’d like to say that I did the state of Arizona proud, but my early exit (“irreducible” doesn’t have an “a”) put me squarely in the territory of “not even close”, kind of like the distance between my home in the Sonoran Desert and our country’s capitol. I did get to meet and shake hands with President Gerald Ford in the White House Rose Garden, an excitement almost matched by the glee with which my fellow spellers and I rode the elevators and ran the halls at midnight in the grand and glorious Mayflower Hotel. (Apologies to all guests trying to sleep. We were twelve.)

The following year I came in 2^nd in the state spelling bee. What can I say except that I’m a one-hit-wonder. (Have you heard about my Jeopardy! story?) Even so, Washington D.C. called forth in July of 2008. I used my Jeopardy! winnings to take an amazing family vacation that included watching fireworks on the Mall in the shadow of the Washington Monument.

Is it the 4^th without fireworks? Our last few years in Houston we were fortunate enough to have a neighbor whose motto was “go big or go home” and he went BIG. No one on the street needed to buy fireworks thanks to Alex and his generous pyrotechnic investment. Now that we live in the country, we can watch from the porch while my brother sets them off, or better yet, set up the chairs on the riverbank and watch the neighbor’s show across the river. (The secret is again, find people who are willing to spend their money and sit back and enjoy.)

Lest you think I’m a 4^th of July Scrooge, we will be enjoying pulled pork this year thanks to the local football team’s fundraiser. I’ve invested in the local economy* by purchasing a wreath for the front door, a bandana for Barley the Best Golden Retriever, American flags to adorn various places inside the house, and red-white-and-blue throw pillows for the sofa.

This past May, I traveled to some of the locations where our “American Experiment” was birthed. I’m not sure how I feel about that term because I don’t think our founding fathers would have pledged their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor for an “experiment.” When you see the desk where Thomas Jefferson read law, put your hand on the banister George Washington used, and stare across the field** where Cornwallis surrendered… it feels too real to be an experiment.

Are we a perfect country? Of course not. But we do have ideals even if we sometimes fail to honor them. I have no illusions that we are safe from the consequences of our own behaviors. But as a person who believes that everything we have is a gift which must be stewarded well, I am grateful to God who has entrusted us to care for and promote these values. As I remarked in a conversation last week, “You can say that America was founded on rugged individualism and greed, but Christianity teaches the opposite. We are part of a body, a community, and we are to give everything away.” I have not lost hope.

What does America look like? When Steve and I were waiting to enter Dollywood last month, a voice came over the loudspeaker informing us that before the park officially opened, we would be honoring the American Flag and hearing the National Anthem. Every hat was removed, hands covered hearts, and a crowd of strangers began singing together. The land of the free and the home of the brave.

Welcome Home!

Renée

*Amazon employees have to make a living too.

**The name of this meadow is Surrender Field. I propose that every athletic stadium be renamed Surrender Field. Just so you are reminded, someone is going to lose.