Dear Editor,
Everyday of my life I am proud and honored to call myself an American citizen. I am, simply for the reason that we are free. Free to make our own decision and think how we choose. Free to speak how we wish, and have our own religion.
The day I was proud to call my home America was the day of my grandfather’s funeral. My grandfather served in the Navy and United States military. He served his country proudly for many years, and the day of this funeral they proudly saluted him with gunfire to signify a fallen comrade. Then they held a traditional folding of the American flag ceremony, which the officers gave to my grandmother to honor my grandpa. They handed my grandma the flag and my heart dropped. All I could do was hug her, because I knew nothing I could say would make it alright.
I remember that day, and the emotions swirling all around me. I remember, as the gunfire went off, I turned to look at the rest of my family. Tears filled every one of their eyes, as if they had just realized now that my grandfather had really passed. Tears welled in my eyes as well, but not from sadness, but because of pride. I was proud of our America; proud that since my grandfather had served his country they would now give a proper salute and especially proud to say that Herberto Cervantes had served his country and he was my grandfather.
Jade Cervantes, Gilroy
