Today I opened my facebook and saw some beautiful posts from many people I love. It seemed a little weird to live 9/11 twice this year. Once with the people of New Zealand yesterday and once with my US family and friends today. I found that the people here reacted with the same kind of horror that we felt. The horror was that this country that the whole world looks on for support in spite of their criticisms of us, was under attack. There was total disbelief here as well as at home and there was still talk here of the effects that it has had on the world in general.
I found it a little disconcerting to read the commonplace sentiments expressed today on facebook. There were people living life as usual as I reflected on events of the past. There were also many who made comments about remembering that event and learning from it. As I talked with the missonaries, it dawned on me that they were 8 or 9 years old at the time and though they were affected mostly by the pain of those around them, they really didn't understand (because of age) the total effect it had on the world and they still don't. They see it from the perspective of a child.
I remember going to Venezuela in January after that. We were told it might not be wise to go but we weren't ready to be put on a leash. We were told not to wear our team uniforms for fear of targeting ourselves. We wore them anyway. I will never forget sitting in the Caracas airport wondering if we would get our leaders back as they took a couple of them away and if we would ever get home. We literally had to pay our way out of that country. They called it "exit tax", we called it exploitation.
I remember actually wanting to kiss the tarmack on arrival in Miami having missed all our original plane connections. I remember 4 hours of sleep in a somewhat rundown motel. I remember arriving at the airport for a 9 a.m. plane and being escorted through the Miami airport to an earlier flight as the loud speakers in the terminal blaired that the US Martial Arts team was coming through. Do you think our heads were high? You bet they were.
I don't know when I have been more proud to be an American. Today I am still proud, even in Kiwi couuntry. We still stand for something and it is recognized by many here and in other places. They still look to us for leadership and support. They adopt what we do and make it theirs. Unfortunately, some of those things are not things to be proud of. Amanda, there are still people that believe in the things the United States stands for. They still want to follow. Our job then is to give them something worth following even if it is just through one simple person at a time.
Here I am in the Land of the Long White Cloud, still proud to stand tall and be an American. Here, I am still looked at with a mix of curiosity and admiration. Then I wore a blue uniform with United States Martial Arts Team emblazoned on it. Now I wear the uniform of a Mormon Missionary and a badge that declares that I am. It is my job and yours to return that pride, that standard to the world, that Title of Liberty that stands for the only place on earth where the gospel could have been restored. We must make it again, the place the whole world looks to for guidance and direction. We can do it, one bit at a time. Stand tall, even when you stand alone. You never know who is watching.
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