The year was 1959 and planes still used propellers to cut through the air. Our family of five boarded a large airplane in New York’s LaGuardia Airport to fly the first leg of our long journey to our new home in Tehran, Iran. Then many people still called it Persia, the land of the Shah-an-Shan, who ruled from the famous Peacock Throne.
Our charter flight (filled with employees of the construction company my father worked for) stopped in Gander, Newfoundland, Shannon Ireland, Beirut, Lebanon and finally in our destination. Tehran was to be this country girl’s home for two years during my high school days.
I am reminded of this long ago event by our, almost 13-year-old grandson Collin’s participation in an essay contest called “Why I am proud to be an American.”
He is only a little younger than I was when I left the comfortable, safe, and known culture of my youth. I had no idea why I might be proud to be an American at that age, and neither does he. It was all I had ever known and little intruded my thoughts beyond dread of a new school, making new friends and “Why for heaven’s sake did I have to take Latin?
I became very proud of being an American but much of my pride rested in typically teen-aged thoughts. We had the
“best” music, the “best” clothes, the “best” cars, and the “best” food. The reason I knew it was the “best” was because all the Europeans, Iranians and other Middle Easterners who attended our school wanted to get what we had. I did notice the poverty, the open sewers and primitive ways, but as Americans we were pretty sheltered from those facets of native life.
That was my awakening to the differences in nations and all these many years later, I can tell Collin in a much deeper way why I am proud to be an American.
I love being an American because we talk passionately and even angrily about our differences but then we settle our course of action at the ballot box.
I love this nation because as private citizens we respond to calls for help in disasters with overwhelming dollar amounts and even with hands-on assistance. I know many people who have made repeated trips to help rebuild Haiti with their own tools, resources and help from our church. Dear friends of ours are making a fourth or fifth trip to the Dominican Republic to help the people down there. They share the Gospel with words and building skills.
I am proud to be an American because even in war we can be generous. Think of rebuilding Germany and Japan after World War II. The only things we took away from that conflict was our dead soldiers.
Now we are pulling out of Iraq, and have you noticed that all the oil remains the property of the Iraqi citizens? Again, the only “take away” are the precious bodies of our war dead.
I love the beauty of our vast nation and the different cultures from North to South, East and West. I love the friendliness of our people and their creativity, the spirit of “can do” and the resilience that causes us to take bad news and then take steps to recover.
If you love our country and are proud to be an American, tell your children and grandchildren why. Otherwise they may never know. Good luck, Collin in writing your essay for the contest. I hope you win!
PATRICIA HALL, the publisher’s wife
Wildwood Crest – Several of Donald Trump’s Cabinet picks have created quite a bit of controversy over the last few weeks. But surprisingly, his pick to become the next director of the FBI hasn’t experienced as much…
