I’m listening to the far-off sound of fireworks from our community fireworks show, praying they don’t wake my babies. Like many other parents of little ones, we celebrated America’s birthday this morning with a kiddie parade, hot dogs and ice cream. My 3-year-old helped me decorate her tricycle before peddling her way adorably down the main street of a nearby town.
It wasn’t today, but yesterday that I felt more patriotic than I ever had in my life and I’ve seen that one Budweiser commercial during the Super Bowl after 9/11 and watched fireworks over the Potomac while hearing John Philip Sousa Marches. Charlotte got a new children’s book that had the lyrics of “America The Beautiful” on each page with impressive illustrations. We explained to her that the book was a song. Admit it, that song gives you goose bumps way more often than the “Star Spangled Banner.” When we were finished reading it she asked us to sing it to her. We are not singers in any way, but Greyson and I smiled at each other and began our rendition with “Oh beautiful, for spacious skies…”
Somewhere around “…God shed his grace on thee…” she grabbed both our hands and smiled up at us. In that small moment, during our off-key serenade, I had never been more grateful to have the freedom to be raising little Americans. Happy Independence Day.