By Scott Vaughan
According to the “scouting report” on fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Smith, it was
rumored that she loved sports. But more importantly, her favorite subject
was art, and I won the lottery by being in her class. That was the year we
learned to use crayons (without coloring books) to create our own artwork
and to write our own chapter books.
As Veterans Day approached, Mrs. Smith molded our class into a choir, and once a
week, we went to the school cafeteria to practice patriotic songs. Mrs. Smith, our accompanist, was thrilled as we sang “You’re A Grand Old Flag,” “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy,” “The Star- Spangled Banner,” and “This Is My Country.” To this day, “America the Beautiful” still leaves me teary-eyed.
Ms. Smith decided to host a performance for our friends and family. That night, the cafeteria was standing room only. Before the concert, Mrs. Smith, dressed in patriotic colors, gathered us backstage. While wiping tears from her eyes, she reminded us: “We live in a great country, and I am so proud of you.” At that point, we would have run through a brick wall for Mrs. Smith and the United States of America.
When we closed the show with “God Bless America,” the audience stood without prompting and sang along with us. It was glorious! Following a closing prayer by a Baptist preacher, there was an eruption of applause as choir and audience celebrated as one.
After the performance, no one wanted to go home. We ate brownies, drank lemonade, and basked in the glow of the small community celebration. Someone even suggested we do it again on the Fourth of July.
As my family prepared to leave the school, I ran to the classroom to retrieve my coat. When I approached the half-open door, I saw that Mrs. Smith was sitting alone in the room. She was singing softly to herself, until her voice gave way to sobs, as she buried her face in her hands. I quietly got my coat and left the room.
I never found out why Mrs. Smith was weeping that night. I’ve often wondered if the choir concert was a way for her to calm a broken heart over a loved one lost in war or serving far away in Vietnam. Or maybe her emotional response was just from the sentimental spirit of the evening. I don’t know.
Here’s what I do know and what I learned in fifth grade: Patriotism, genuine patriotism, is powerful. It stirs emotion. And the tears of patriotism—the devotion and vigorous support of one’s country, from sea to shining sea—are very honest and very real.
The United States of America will celebrate 250 years this July 4th. I hope you will be celebrating too.
