....sinking feeling in chest. We must pray for the children. They shouldn't have had to see what's next. I have lived a glorious, unbridled existance on THIS LAND!

I'm trying to find the words to express the overriding theme of the myriad of thoughts that rushed through my mind as I watched, as I mentally placed myself in this parent's position. They escape me.

Oddly, in an instant, a specter of my past beckoned my inner child as this boy child quite literally sheeked in agony as these jackbooted strangers physically bullied and threatened his mother. The vision or feeling, whatever you call it, made me think of how free I was as a child and young adult. Mostly short, gif-like images, small snippets of my memories. They were beautiful. Bright blue, wide open sky and green grass. Other children, friends I still know the names of, laughing and chasing, playing games all the way till dark, sometimes past. American flags and grills, cheeseburgers and boats, guns and deer and lots of fishing poles. Oh the biking. We wore those tires out! Baseball bat with a glove hanging like a flag slung over my shoulder, sidewalk into street, maybe do a little jump off the curb. Home run derby, and maybe stop at the card shop or the music store before heading home for some Nintendo or some electric slot cars (had what I thought was a mile or more of 2-slot track, had to use big pink eraser to clean the little metal electric rails, you remember).

I passionately miss those days. This little boy, although not American, just cut my heart right out. My 2A may have been used in this situation were it me as the parent. And this is not something I consider ideal or desirable. In fact, it just plain sucks, stings a little right in the gut. Right where I keep all my Red, White and Blue memories of my childhood.

Please, Almighty God, let us pray that we may pass onto our children, your children my Lord, what was given to me in my childhood. GOD GIVEN FREEDOM. In the Lord's name, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.