What America Means to Me

When I drive to work I usually listen to Bob Lonsberry on the radio. It gives me a chance to hear some of what is going on in the world, and I usually agree with his views. It also helps me know how fast I need to drive: if I hear too much of the news, I know I will be really late for work. But this morning while I ate breakfast I read something that made me change my morning routine a little. It was an article in the Ensign that talked about how we let our busy lives keep us from concentrating, pondering, and nourishing our spiritual selves.

I decided to use my drive to ponder, and as I sat in my car pondering on what to ponder, I saw an American flag, and I thought to myself, if someone asked me what being an American meant to me, what would I say? Or to put it another way, what kind of patriot am I?

To me, being an American is less about the land and more about the company I keep as an American. I don't mean only my family and friends, but people I never have and never will meet as well. People from California to Florida; people far away in Alaska or Hawai'i; people all over the world who call America home. When I think about America, I think about people working together to make their lives better. I think particularly about families struggling to make it in a tough world. I think about small-town celebrations where everyone gets together to have fun and to celebrate being free. I think about the soldiers across the world who protect our freedoms. I think about the working men and women who keep the economy turning, who keep America rolling forward. I think about the stay-at-home mothers and fathers who nurture and teach millions of wonderful children who will be the future of America.

Living in Utah and being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints adds a little more to my view of freedom. In a way, we have two days of Independence in July: the fourth and the twenty-fourth. The twenty-fourth marks the anniversary of when the Mormon Pioneers entered the Salt Lake valley after an exodus fraught with persecution, hardship beyond my conception, and death. When they reached the valley, that exercise of freedom had really just begun. I have heard so many stories about how the people worked together to turn the desert into a place to live and to thrive. I think about the Mormon Battalion, called to serve their country even after the government of that country had failed to provide those promised rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I think about Captain Moroni and the Title of Liberty: "In memory of our God, our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children." That is the spirit of America.

The American Dream is not having a house or fancy car like so many commercials today claim. It isn't having a large property or a big boat. The American Dream is achieving those things. The American Dream is the opportunity that we have for success. It is having the freedom to work to honestly earn those things that make us better, and then using them to continue in achieving new goals. It is becoming self-sufficient. It is progress.

On the American flag I see fifty bright stars of hope on a field of blue, placed on a foundation of red and white, the integrity and courage of all those who have fought for our freedom and those who continue to protect and enliven that freedom, at war and at home. I am proud to be an American because I am proud to stand among the people in this country who are courageous yet humble, who are earnestly striving to achieve more yet are completely grateful for what they have, and who are indefatigable but who also have time for fun with family and friends.