Psalm 20:5
We want to see Jesus lifted high,
A banner that flies across this land,
That all men might see the truth and know,
He is the way to heaven.
This page is in memory of my Dad, who was rejected by the armed forces during WW II because he had polio as a child. I think he always felt bad about not serving, because he loved his country. The flag was important to him, and he displayed it with great humility. He may not have served his country in war, but he served his God in gratitude, and now he walks on streets of gold.
the first flag for our country.
The pledge to that flag was first used on October 12, 1892 during Columbus Day observances in the public schools. In 1954 Congress added the words “under God” to the pledge, and the pledge remains as we read it today.
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands: one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
The following poem should tug at the heart of every American. It cost the lives of so many, this freedom we enjoy, and yet most just take it for granted. Old Glory has been draped over many a casket of those who fought and died so America could be free.
FREEDOM IS NOT FREE
I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it, and then
He stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
With hair cut square and eyes alert.
He’d stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers’ tears?
How many pilots’ planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers’ graves?
No, freedom is not free.
I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant “Amen,”
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom is not free.
Author Unknown
IT IS THE SOLDIER
It is the soldier, not the reporter It is the soldier, not the poet, It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, It is the soldier,
Who has given us freedom of the press.
Who has given us freedom of speech.
Who has give us the freedom to demonstrate.
Who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.
Author Unknown
Display Old Glory in humble gratitude to those who have given their lives so that we can fly it in the gentle breezes, the blazing sunshine, and even the misty rain in this, the home of the free and the land of the brave.
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IT'S A GRAND OLD FLAG
