Like many American families my parents have an American Flag hanging off the front of their home. Boldly stating "A Proud American Lives Here" , or "God Bless Our Troops". My parents flag bares both these messages. (Side note: except when its Butler Basketball Season, then Mom displays her Butler Flag, Butler was the University I attended).
When I was home in August an unexpected storm blew in one evening. Mom and I sat on the front steps under the flag and watched as the wind picked up and swiftly blew the leaves on the big cottonwood tree across the street. We listened to the clap of thunder, and felt as the first big drops of rain came down, on us and our flag.
Mom and I sat and watched the rain for sometime. All the while our proud flag was getting soaked in this summer rain. At one point the wind blew so fiercely that the flag flapped wildly, spraying us with water. I could not help thinking to myself that I had just been baptized, in a way, by that flag. Suddenly each droplet the flag spayed onto me tingled my skin.
I have always loved our flag. But living away from home in a foreign country has made me respect that flag in a way I have never experienced prior.
In Sydney Graham and I went to an Australia vs. America Rodeo. (Graham's first rodeo experience)
The Australian and American Flag where hanging side by side. I watched as nearly 4,000 Australians rose and sang their national anthem. When it was the Americans turn to sing the anthem and pay homage only a handful of people in this huge stadium rose, crossed their hearts and sang our American anthem. It was a strange moment. A moment that made me miss home badly, and a moment that made me proud to be an American. Don't worry I sang loudly!
Another experience happened to me while working on World Youth Day 2008 in Sydney. Its a huge Catholic event, Over a million Catholics gather from around the world to share their faith. I worked on this event as a Stage Manager. Part of my job was to get the Convention Centre ready for mass in the mornings (among many many other things). One morning I went to mass out on Darling Harbour with at least 1,000 other people. I stood next to another American(I did not know that at the time), a young man I didn't know, he was just in Sydney for World Youth Day. As is it came time for the Lords Prayer to be said we looked at each other at the same moment and clasped hands, we where the only two people holding hands in this huge crowd, we held hands through the prayer and let go when it was finished. This hand holding is a normal occurrence in many Catholic churches in America, but not a practice that is common in Australia. When I attend a mass in Australia and have no hand to hold I always feel a little bit alone, alone in a country that is not my home country. Standing next to my fellow American in the crowd, holding hands for the lords prayer, I thought to myself, I am sure glad I came to mass this morning, or this man next to me would know what it feels like to have no hand to hold, when it feels so natural. This was one of the best moments of World Youth Day for me. Among a few other really cool ones too.. But that man is still the last strangers hand I have held during mass. No need to worry though, I make Graham hold my hand for the lords prayer.
I want to let you all know that yes I do have the American colors hanging on my front door. Its something I will always do no matter where I live. Its important to remember where you come from. And I come from America.
