My Flag

A gray-haired man, a little bent with age, stood as tall as he could with his hand over his heart as his country’s flag passed by. Standing next to him, his grandson noticed a tear run down the old man’s cheek. “Grandpa,” he said, “Are you OK? Why are you crying?”

“I’m just fine,” replied the grandfather. “I just love that flag, my flag.”

What is there about a flag that makes us feel so proud and willing to give so much? An athlete will strive with all her might for the right to stand on the podium as her flag is raised in honor of her victory. A soldier will risk life and limb to raise his flag over a conquered battlefield. Patriots young and old pause in reverence, their hearts beating a little faster, when they see their flag unfold in the breeze.

Each of us has a land we call our own. We all feel connected to a country by virtue of our heritage or loyalty. And nothing seems to touch so deeply our love of country as that almost sacred fabric, woven with pattern and color, that we call our flag. Whether it is waving over a schoolhouse or a field of combat, the sight of our flag inspires courage, hope, gratitude, and unity.

The bond of common citizenship represented by our flag unites us in spite of differences of race, religion, or politics. When people who share our flag are in distress, we reach out to meet their needs and defend their rights. The allegiance we pledge to our flag is, at its heart, a promise to help one another.

An old man sheds a tear as the flag passes by. A young man begins to understand what those colors represent. And all of us, no matter which banner we salute, say with pride, “I love that flag, my flag."