Dear Old Glory
The Fourth of July is one of my favorite times of the year. I love parades, and I love to wave the flag.
When I was a kid, we waiting for the parade with great excitement. I always wanted to get down to Main Street early so I could have a great view of the marching bands, the fireworks, drum corps and majorettes. When I became a Brownie, I got to march in the parade, wearing my uniform and carrying the flag proudly. On all the houses and street corners flew the red, white, and blue.
We saw all our neighbors at the parade, shared picnics with them afterward, and ate cherry pie. We played baseball, and rode our bikes decorated with red, white, and blue crepe paper. At night we went to the town park to watch the fireworks.
It seems like flying the flag has waned over the years. And the parades have dwindled, too.
Thank goodness we still have fireworks to remind us all of the freedoms we have and the debt of gratitude we owe to those who keep us free.
For me, flying Old Glory is my way of saying thank you.