A very sweet young southern woman just called me. Or so I am assuming from her voice and accent.
Her voice was shaking as she thanked me for my past support and read through a prepared script regarding the fight for the final 200 delegates and for taking on McCain.
As she spoke, I recalled my younger brother walking door to door in a black neighborhood in Florida. I replayed in my head the hundreds of posts I have read from young and old alike who spoke of their stepping up to participate in this campaign. And tears came to my eyes. Tears of pride. Pride in a nation that was standing up for something deeper than fear or blind patriotism. A country in which people were beginning to believe again in something nobler and larger.
I listened to the young woman stumble through her script for a few more moments until I finally had to interrupt her. "How can I help?" I asked.
I could almost hear the relief in her voice as she told me they could use a donation of $50.
To which I replied I would gladly donate $100.
Money is devoid of meaning. And while I desired to show my support for this amazing man, Mr. Obama, I realized this was an opportunity for a different act. A chance to voice my pride in my younger brother and the many others who have stepped forward to reclaim hope and belief in our country.
* I recognize that not everyone who reads my blog shares my political views. This was a personal moment as an expatriate to share pride in my younger brother and my country. I ask for your understanding if not your support.



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