Our great American Flag. It has only recently occurred to me the comfort and boldness seeing the Flag brings me. This realization first struck me when I was driving into work one morning. Dreading my drive in because I was about to start a long shift on a beautiful, sunny day, I turned the corner to see one of the largest flags I've ever seen billowing so elegantly, and I had a wave of serenity and comfort cascade over me. I had passed that flag more times than I could count, but only now did its presence become so apparent to me; so meaningful. Seeing that flag is now the highlight of my drive. I am sure to take a moment and recognize it. That flag stands for more than a cloth of red, white, and blue. No, that flag stands for the millions who gave their lives. That flag has withstood centuries of toil, loss, and salvation.

Our beautiful flag first proved its strength during the Revolution. It carried on through the smoke and bullets alongside our forefathers and soldiers. Then, during the war of 1812, it inspired Francis Scott Key to write a poem whose first stanza would transform into our National Anthem. "And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. . ."

When we raise the Flag we are raising a monument of perseverance. We are affirming our strength and standing up for what is right. The Flag is unwavering, despite the loss, the carnage, the anguish. Through the ashes, we prevail.

And when we see our flag lowered to half mast, it hits the heart. Seeing our flag craned down to honor the fallen strikes a nerve in every American's heart, for we understand the caliber of loss and sacrifice devoted to earning such national reverence.

It is a rather unique thing, our flag. It is the one thing that holds us all together. The Flag grabs our attention. Demands our attention. Deserves our attention. And against all odds, that flag stands tried and true.

I have come to admire our flag, boasting it in any fashion I can. I am a firm believer that our flag is the one remaining, living artifact of the Revolution. It has changed with the times: as new states joined the Union the Flag adopted more stars. But the symbolism in the stars and stripes remains. I am a firm believer in honoring those who died for this country. Not just the soldiers, but our police, firemen, and silent patriots who wear no other uniform and bear no other name than "civilian". I am a firm believer, even before my epiphany, that the Flag is to be respected. For when we stand, placing our hand over our hearts, we are not just saluting any old flag, but an emblem of freedom, sacrifice, and patriotism.

To me, there is nothing more satisfying than seeing the wind sail through the Flag as the stars gleam and stripes ripple out to full cast. And when the Flag is so grandiose it looks as though it is moving in slow motion. It's as if the moment is being preserved and displayed in such a special way as to make us appreciate it even more; we are to consume the symbolism and beauty of our great flag at that moment.

When I stare up at the Flag, all the noise dissipates. I feel nothing except the breeze and a soulful presence of bliss and pride.

One flag standing alone resonates as strongly as one thousand.

I love driving down the street, any street, and not being able to go 500 feet until I see another flag. I love having a flag come into view just as another disappears. I love seeing streets lined with the red, white, and blue, shamelessly expressing American pride.

As I sit outside on this sunny evening, soaking in the last ounces of the sun, the breeze wisping through the trees, I relish in the freedoms I bare. I enjoy the liberty that flag symbolizes, and I think to myself of how blessed I am to be born in this country. I try my best to articulate the grandness of our Flag, with the words every American knows and holds dear replaying in my head:

"Oh say does that star-spangled banner yet wave. O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave."