Michele Wallace Campanelli writes novels, short stories, poems and screenplays. Her work has appeared in a number of books, including Chicken Soup for the Soul. You can visit her home page at http://www.michelecampanelli.com. This story appeared on Heartwarmers.com and it appears here with the writer's permission. Her grandfather gave her a flag. She has given us all something with this patriotic story. Happy Independence Day celebration from The LCMS Foundation!
When I stepped outside my house and glanced down my street, I knew that America wasn't the same. The most horrific terrorist attack in human history affected more than New York City, the Pentagon, the Pennsylvania crash site, and rescue personnel. It affected every one of us -- millions of Americans, young and old, from all races and religions.
Flags were flying on every house down my block. I realized that my husband and I, who had recently bought our first home, didn't have a flag of our own. Donating blood and money no longer felt like enough.
Immediately, I left on a quest to find an American flag to show my patriotic spirit. After starting up my ancient car, I headed to the local Kmart, Wal-Mart, Home Depot, Lowe's, Ace Hardware and then craft stores. Everywhere I was told the same thing, "We had flags this morning, but they were all sold. Come back again and we'll have more flags next week."
Next week? Somehow next week didn't seem good enough, not for this fervent patriot.
I hurried back to my car to proceed to plan B -- trying to buy a flag over the Internet. As I drove down the highway, I noticed that nearly every marquee announced: "God Bless America" or "United We Stand." Cars passed me with flag stickers on the bumpers or small flags tied to antennae, even flags draped over luggage racks.
This drive was unlike any other I had ever taken. I had known before that Americans were proud, but seeing the flag today, so many displayed in such diverse ways, hit me differently than on any Fourth of July or President's Day. This varied display of the colors spoke of unity, of courage, of determination.
As I stopped at a red light, I heard a familiar tune drifting from a breakfast shop that had opened its doors to welcome customers. "The Star Spangled Banner" was blasting from a loud speaker.
"Oh say does that star spangled banner
Yet wave!
O'er the land of the free
And the home of the brave!"
A chill ran down my spine. Although I had heard the words a thousand times before, this day I truly appreciated how Francis Scott Key must have felt as he wrote them. What a welcome sight is the red, white, and blue banner flying high. Even though the light turned green, cars around me didn't speed off. The lady next to me wiped her eyes and gave me a nod before continuing on her way.
Today, Americans were different, changed. The horror meant to divide us somehow did not. Instead, we were uniting through this tragedy, proud of our heritage.
When I got home, I searched the Internet for Old Glory online. I surfed markets in other countries -- China, Europe and Australia. Again notices were posted, "Seamstresses working overtime. Sorry for the delay. None currently available." All over the world, the American flag supply seemed to have run out.
Still determined, I called family members and asked if they knew where I could find a flag. All were flying their own or had no knowledge of where new ones could be found. My mission seemed hopeless.
Hours passed.
Suddenly, a knock sounded on my door. My grandfather, Jim Pauline, a man who had served in the US Army during War World II in the tank division at Normandy under General Patton, held out his hands. In them lay Old Glory.
"Thought you might want this," Grandpa smiled. "Sorry it isn't very big." I gave him a hug. Even if this flag was just a foot long, I didn't care. The size of the flag couldn't measure the love that I have for my country, for my friends, and for family who live within its borders.
I walked out into my yard and, among the dozens that flew already, I added my very own treasured banner.
It seemed a simple gesture, but the meaning was so profound it brought tears to my eyes. I used to think the flag was the symbol of our country, but I now know what Congress decided on June 14, 1777, rings as true today as it did 225 years ago:
The stars represent each of the United States
The blue field behind the stars stands for vigilance, perseverance and justice.
The white stripes reflect purity and innocence.
The red stripes symbolize valor and courage.
Even if the terrorist bombers murdered 3,000 innocent Americans on September 11, 2001, they couldn't destroy our American spirit.
In the aftermath, rescue workers in New York raised a dusty flag over the rubble. Another flag was hung on the side of the partially destroyed Pentagon and above the ashes of a crashed plane in Pennsylvania. On our streets red, white and blue banners decorated cars, homes, office buildings, ties, T-shirts, buttons and stickers. The American flag was being flown so that those who died on September 11, did not die in vain. They are being remembered and honored.
Approximately 88,000 flags were purchased in the days after, more than any other time in history. My quest to find a flag wasn't easy because I wasn't alone in wanting to show pride for this beloved country. And for that, I am eternally grateful.