Often citizens of Americans are obsessed with discovering
who or what they are in their ancestral lineage. I remember being told as a boy
that I was English. My mind would swirl with thoughts of Big Ben and Winston
Churchill. Then I discovered that, on my mother’s side, I was German. I was
even told that I had some Cherokee Indian in me.
The
older I get and the more I think about the whole situation I have come to this
conclusion. I am an American. You can put my name at the base of the Statue of
Liberty as one of those “...poor huddled masses, yearning to be free.” Reality
is, this is my home. Give me the providence that brought our ancestors to this
country, “...but give me liberty or give me death.”
Friend, if you begin to wonder who you are, I’ll tell you.
You are an American. You fired a shot heard around the world. You’re Paul
Revere, and George Washington. You refuse to bow to dictators and fought for
this republic at the Alamo. You are freedoms torch, hope for the hopeless and a
prayer for those in need. It’s great to live in a land where Liberty is
assured, not just a few, but for all. Whoever you are and whatever brought you
or your people to this land; you can be somebody in America.
