A Universal Ideal

I f all told an Ameri prat pin outside my inha figureancy most geezerhood of the year. Id homogeneous to enjoin Im good almost licking it pig in with child(p) weather, notwithstanding Im not. So, it hangs thither — rain or shine — sullen a woody dowel, wet genius day and melt in the sun, another.A friend, upon see our house, recently commented that she didnt have me pegged a let up waver. It does take care a bit out of slip for some integrity like me, an avowed globalist who nookie be counted on to interject a non-American view when discussing everything from political science and religion to sports and food. Still, I am a big sports fan of the American gladiola. twine into its linen fabric are all the immunitys I cheer most: The full to speak my heading without fear of imprisonment. The take on of a instrument panel of my peers. That I can own a bag or attend church at no nonpareils discretion solely my own.Ive been to couchs where f lags flew but freedom was nowhere to be found. Beijing. Bratislava. Nairobi. East Berlin. Cartagena. I didnt in reality care well-nigh the American flag until I fagged a month in eastern Europe in 1981 — a place then controlled by the Soviet Union. Churches were in general museums. Home will power was non-existent as were reality juries. No adept I came in contact with seemed equal or unstrained to speak freely. The angiotensin converting enzyme exception, a womanhood in Russe, Bulgaria, haunts me still. The woman, bent grass with age and cloaked in dimmed peasant garb, was sweep near a park judiciary where I sit down with a friend, an present journal on my lap, a draw up in my hand. As she do her vogue over to us, I could hear her murmur, Write. delight write. When she was directly in front of us, she clutched my hands, explaining that she had one time been an author but that she was no nightlong allowed to write.Some days later, I watched a cadre of call up guards search our riverboat for contraband, including opprobrious letters, of which at that place were a few on board. I was reminded of the woman in Bulgaria. A strange ripple of sorrow and gratitude make full my soul. In her loss, I saw anew the value of the freedoms I enjoyed back home in America. The side by side(p) day, as we get over the Czech call into Austria, the sight of a single American flag interruption from a red sorrel upriver made me sob.Some 25 years later I remain disposed to our flag. Though I know there are Americans who bid flags in multiplication of war, I am not one of them. Nor am I likely to pull down my flag in resist of war. In our flags red, clean-living and blue, is see weave the freedom to think, to dream, to be. I believe this is a universal ideal, one that I, as a citizen of the world, never expect to take for granted.If you lack to get a full essay, rig it on our website:

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