My simple, carefree, sweet childhood included lots and lots of library forays. Our mother made sure we were always in the "Summer Reading Club" at the Powder Springs Public Library. The kind librarian there was always helpful and knew us all by name. But from a young age, I was known to get in trouble in the library. I'm too extroverted to be quiet for long, and the excitement (that I still feel) when surrounded by lots of books has often caused me to turn up my volume. What I especially remember, during my elementary years, was a group of biographies geared towards children. They were bound in orange or yellowish covers. I read about all manner of historic figures, from presidents to Indian chiefs. By proxy, I gained a respect and admiration for the people who laid foundations for our country...folks who had grit, determination, fire and character.
We recited the pledge of allegiance every morning, with a flag in every classroom. During music hour, we sang songs about sheaves of wheat and all things American. Our class was a melting pot of all kinds of people, but I caught that we were one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. We prayed for the "boys in Vietnam." We prayed for the President. We prayed for peace. Those were no-brainers. So when we decided, many years ago now, to homeschool our four children, our haphazard days began with prayer, the pledge of allegiance and rousing renditions of the Star Spangled Banner on our front porch. We Nortons are not known for our singing voices, but no one can deny our enthusiasm. We also frequented the local library, where I still tended towards rebellion and mayhem with all that talking and giggling, not to mention my problem with bringing books in late. I have never understood why librarians have gotten so mad at me for having books out a few days after their due-date. I have paid many fines in my lifetime. Fines help keep libraries in the black. What's wrong with this plan?
When I think of America, I see the flag, a hand over a heart, a library, a song, fields of waving wheat, children singing, a church on a Sunday morning. I see people, red and yellow, black and white....all them precious in His sight. I roll the word "freedom" around in my mind and wonder how far things go before you lose it. Is it like boiling a frog -- where the water gets gradually warm, so slowly and cozy that there are no alarms when the first bubbles begin to rise...and then as the death knell rings it is too late to jump out?
We are comfortable, in our cooled and heated houses (and cars, even). In the span of my life, I've known the joy of a sprinkler on a 100-degree day (as a child) to the delight of a fully-functional HVAC system in literally every building I visit (as an adult). Technology and many years of bounty in our country have left us all fat, luxuriant and entertained (but are we?) I speak for myself when I say we are spoiled. Our world of unbelievable opportunities and conveniences, we take for granted. Even the poorest among us is rich, compared to a couple of generations ago or compared to most of the world.
Will I let my comfort, or my fear of the loss of it, hijack the heart of the message that is freedom? Wake up, oh sleeper.
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