Celebrating Independence

These days, it seems to be more important than ever to teach our children the true meaning of Independence Day.

As an academic in the field of United States history, I quickly learned that the trend in the majority of our nation's universities was to belittle our Founding Fathers.  Professors often teach students that they should be ashamed of being Americans, and the best use of young people's time would be apologizing for any mistakes, both real and imagined, that their ancestors may have committed.  This policy made me uncomfortable as a graduate student.  As a parent and an American, I abhor it.

I made a solemn promise to myself, my children, and my God that I would teach my offspring the truth about this wonderful country.  That does not mean that we gloss over the ugly parts; rather, we will discuss how hardships such as slavery could not be overcome without the path the Founding Fathers established for us.

My promise is to have at least three young people in this world who truly understand what is meant by "pledging our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor."  I hope I can be strong enough to do the same.

Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, has been a source of inspiration to me since I was a little girl.  I loved visiting there and hearing about my favorite president and Founding Father.  I loved it so much, in fact, that I became an interpreter there while working on both my master's and doctoral degrees.

I saddens me that the Foundation that runs Monticello has fallen victim to the prevalent progressive disease of denigrating the men who helped to form this great nation.  Their willingness to flagellate Mr. Jefferson rather than celebrate his accomplishments only serves to make me more dedicated to passing on the truth of the creation of our magnificent country.  Call me a nationalist or a patriotic zealot . . . it makes no difference.  I know that God had His Hand in the formation of this country, and we owe both Him and the men who listened to Him more than a debt of gratitude.  We owe it to them to not let the truth be lost.

Strawberry Delight

We had such a delightful family outing to the strawberry patch at Chiles Peach Orchard, located in beautiful Crozet, Virginia.

Of course, when you are a family of five, each person has a different goal in mind when approaching an activity such as strawberry-picking.  While I wanted everyone to have a good time, I also wanted to leave with enough berries to make jam.  Our oldest went in search of the largest strawberry she could find, and the middle child wandered from row to row, searching out the largest section of all-ripe berries.  Our youngest spent her time climbing in and out of the wagon, eating way more berries than she picked . . . in fact, I'm fairly sure the employees should have weighed her instead of her bucket!  My husband spent his time making sure none of the kids tipped their buckets over while I happily picked away.

The strawberries were so plentiful that it didn't take long to get the amount I needed and then some.  I quickly realized, though, the best fruit I was gathering had nothing to do with strawberries.  We were all together, outside on an amazing day, and everyone was enjoying themselves.  If the children are in a bad mood, I can usually do something silly to jolt them out of it, but my husband is a different story.  He works so hard (two, sometimes three jobs), and he tends to let his worry keep him from having fun on our excursions.  On this particular day, he was actually enjoying himself, and his good mood helped to boost the rest of us.  The fruit I truly received that day was a family full of connection, love, and happiness.

It is especially wonderful, once our strawberry jam is made, that I can feel that sense of peace and happiness every time I take a bite of that spring deliciousness.