Patriotism

Patriotism is a thing difficult to put into words. It is neither precisely an emotion nor an opinion, nor a mandate, but a state of mind—a reflection of our own personal sense of worth, and respect for our roots. Love of country plays a part, but it’s not merely love. Neither is it pride, although pride too is one of the ingredients.

Patriotism is a commitment to what is best inside us all. And it’s a recognition of that wondrous common essence in our greater surroundings—our school, team, city, state, our immediate society—often ultimately delineated by our ethnic roots and borders . . . but not always.

Indeed, these border lines are so fluid . . . And we do not pay allegiance as much as we resonate with a shared spirit.

We all feel an undeniable bond with the land where we were born. And yet, if we leave it for another, we grow to feel a similar bond, often of a more complex nature. Both are forms of patriotism—the first, involuntary, by birth, the second by choice.

Neither is less worthy than the other.

But one is earned.

The Nutcracker

The nutcracker sits under the holiday tree, a guardian of childhood stories.

Feed him walnuts and he will crack open a tale . . .

Winter Fireworks

Colored lights blink on and off, racing across the green boughs. Their reflections dance across exquisite glass globes and splinter into shards against tinsel thread and garlands of metallic filaments that disappear underneath the other ornaments and finery.

Shadows follow, joyful, laughing sprites.

The tree is rich with potential wonder.

All it needs is a glance from you to come alive.