Greatness

{faith, hope, love}

Remembrance

{Tiffany windows of St. Peter's Chapel, Mare Island}

During my undergraduate studies, I was assigned the task of taking down an oral history.  Thanks to that assignment I had the pleasure of meeting a festy little lady by the name of  Hester, who worked in Mare Island’s flag loft during WWII. 

She worked eight hours a day, six days a week, in a stuffy, second story room where rows upon rows of women worked, side-by-side, by machine and by hand, sewing.  They sewed American flags, signal flags, table linens, and the occasional carpenter pant. 

I sat in rapt attention as she told story after story … of the care that went into each piece … the grueling days … the weekend dances that got them through … and the reason it was all worthwhile.

For December 7, 1941–after the bombing of Pearl Harbor–it was reported the Japanese were headed for Mare Island. People were panic stricken–screaming and pulling at their hair.  Luckily, an attack on Mare Island never happened … but the people never forgot.  The war, you see, had come to their doorstep.

I think of Hester often, but especially on Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. She was a tangible reminder that the bombing of Pearl Harbor was more than a date in history … it was real people, with real lives, and real stories.  Military and civilian alike, they made the highest sacrifice … and for that, let us never forget.

A foundation of thanksgiving

 

Poor, poor Thanksgiving.  With both Halloween and Christmas marching in early, it doesn’t have a chance … or does it?

Thanksgiving Proclamation

{New York, 3 October 1789}

By the President of the United States of America {George Washington}

An Excerpt

Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor– and whereas both Houses of Congress have by their joint Committee requested me to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.

Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be– That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks–for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming a Nation–for the signal and manifold mercies[…] for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed […].

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our national and other transgressions– to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually–to render our national government a blessing to all the people, by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed […]

Seems our Thanksgiving holiday has a rather solid foundation–and a solid foundation can withstand much. 

That alone is reason for gratitude. 

Now, it’s up to us to build wisely upon that foundation. We can tear down and start over if we must–so long as we get it right.  After all, if we haven’t a heart of thankfulness, I dare say, we have nothing at all …

Love

A few weeks ago, I found that my sweet nephew was drawing me a picture. My sister-in-law asked him if it was for me, he nodded.  Then she asked what he was drawing.  Love, he signed. 

I received my work of art last week; it sits in a place of honor above my desk.  Now, should I ever wonder what love looks like, I have only to look up…

{LOVE, by Micah Brueggemann}

To the Stars and Stripes

You might say the birthday of the “Stars and Stripes” was first celebrated June 14, 1885, in a one room schoolhouse made of stone.  The teacher, a nineteen-year-old Bernard J. Cigrand, stuck a small flag in an inkwell and asked his students to write an essay on the significance of the American flag.

Cingrand, you see, was the youngest of six children whose parents immigrated to the United States from Luxembourg. Being taught to love this great nation from an early age, it’s only natural he would grow to have a deep respect for that which sybolized all she stood for: the American flag. 

So, as he worked to sell scrap iron and rags to buy books …

… to sell books and Bibles for the US Book and Bible Club … 

… as a conductor on a steam barge …

… as a school teacher at Stony Hill …

… as a contributing editor of the Encyclopedia Americana …     

… as a Dentist, and finally, Dean of Columbian Dental College …

He worked to promote patriotism and respect for the flag.  He wrote books and pamplets; he submitted proposals and delivered speeches. Though he did witness President Woodrow Wilson issue a proclamation claiming Flag day as a national event, he did not live to see the final outcome:  President Harry S. Truman signing legislation officially designating June 14th as Flag Day.  

Flag Day still stands, though the meaning has faltered.  Sure, we fly that flag.  We fly it in daylight and the darkest of nights–be it calm, or blustery.  We fly it laden with grime, and dotted with holes.  When it becomes tattered beyond recognition, we toss it atop the garbage heap.

Seems we’ve lost the very thing Cingrand fought for: respect.

This year, as we unfurl the red, white, and blue let us stop and think of all it represents; let us treat it with the dignity it deserves … and teach others to do the same.