I have said it here before that I’ve had a crush on Florence for years, but, truth be told, the first city I fell in love with hard was Washington, D.C.
I really never had any interest in visiting D.C., but, as a college sophomore, I filled in for someone at the last minute to attend a leadership conference there. I loved everything about the city, but mostly, I loved how being there made me so proud, and grateful, to be an American. I loved it so much that I convinced Boyfriend (you got it, now Husband) to spend the summer between our junior and senior years on a school program, working, learning, and living right in the heartbeat of our nation. Which is how I never ended up on semester abroad — I loved America more.
I have long felt that I am able to love Italy so much now because I am American first. Like a child from a loving home feels empowered to venture away from the nest, so too can I love and explore another country, comforted in the knowledge that home waits for me.
Perhaps Daughter says it best:
“In some countries, girls can’t be whatever they want, so I’m glad I live in America.” Me too, Daughter, for both of us. I hope you grow up to be that geologist, if that’s what you still want when the time comes.
Wishing you blessings, joy and gratitude this 4th of July.
I find the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C. especially touching. Here’s a small photo essay from our visit on a most gorgeous weather weekend last fall.
The Washington Monument viewed from the World War II Memorial:
A tribute to those who served:
Special thanks to the women of WWII:
Never can resist visiting a library:
Inside the Library of Congress:
Reflections and The Lincoln Memorial:
This post first appeared on Prayers and Piazzas. All photos by Stacy di Anna Pollard.