red, white, and blue

packed away in my childhood chest is my very first american flag, folded in it's proper way; a token of my innocence to reflect upon, it lies there remebering it's glory days with me. while other little girls were begging their parents for ponies or the new malibu barbie beach house i was begging my parents for a "real america flag". i loved what it stood for. i loved the stories that it represented. i loved the way it rippled in the wind and towered with the clouds that some days looked like elephants and other days looked like my boxer dog peggy. i loved it's colors. i loved seranating it with the pledge of alliance every time i laid eyes upon it. when a storm would announce it's presence, i was the very first one in class with my hand anxiously raised, requesting permission to take it down. i cried when i would see one that had endured years of neglect still valiently perched to it's station. i cried when a hero would die and it was lowered to half mask. i would almost have an eight year old heart attack when someone let it accidentally touch the ground. so i really believe i was the happiest girl in the world the birthday that i was given my very own america flag. every patriotic holiday i would wake up early to hang it from our porch. and now today is memorial day, a day in which we honor the valor, the bravery, the nobility, and the sacrifice of the soldiers that fought and died in WW2, and, i am without my flag to hang from the porch. it's such a petty act i know but it's all i know to do to show how grateful and proud i am of those soldiers that rightly earned the term the greatest generation. i hope that as a nation we stop to remember the sacrafice-and through our remeberance, honor is exhibited.