I spent Independence Day with my beautiful family (minus
Jill).
It was a super lazy day. The boys set up the new swing set and eventually we
went out to the lake for a little bit. We ended the night with music and
fireworks at Pioneer Park.
Hunter and Hailey kneeboarding at the lake
We went out to Mantua lake the day after the 4th to play on the wave runners.
This 4th of July was more meaningful to me than
any other. Not because I did anything more special or out of the ordinary to
celebrate it, but because of what I understood and felt in my heart.
Brett Stewart composed and arranged some truly powerful music that our choir and orchestra prepared from February through May and performed in Abravanel Hall at the end of May. It was an experience I will not soon forget. Glenn Beck was narrating and relayed many facts and stories about America and the songs we often sing but don’t fully understand. The truly neat thing about our repertoire was the emphasis on God as the true founder of this country. Truly it was God that prepared the way and led those who made this land free.
These are some of our directors.
Cherilyn Worthen
Brett Stewart
Cory Mendenhall (Cory spent the most time with us in rehearsal)
Kailene Wallentine and Tim Leishman are in the choir--two old friends from high school.
These are a few of the songs we did:
Profile of a flag
Star, emblem of heaven’s distant vast
The goal aspired by man from immemorial epochs past
Stripe, symbol of searing rays of light
Emanating from the sun’s sustaining sovereign life
Blue, vigilance, perseverance, justice, truth
Resolve of a people who democracy pursue
White, purity, innocence, comfort, light
The peace of a nation fearing God defending right
Red, hardiness, valor, prowess, head
Courage of the fallen and their blood devoutly shed
Star, stripe, blue, white, red
The New Colossus
(A sonnet written in
1883 by Emma Lazarus. In 1903 the poem was engraved on a
bronze plaque and
mounted inside the lower level of the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.)
Not like the brazen giant
of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs
astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed,
sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a
torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned
lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From
her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome;
her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor
that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands,
your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give
me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of
your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless,
tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the
golden door!”
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