To Parades

Fourth of July and our neighborhood kids have taped streamers on their bikes, their wagons, even their shoulders and tied to the dogs. Some artfully woven in and out of spokes and around handles and others with, shall we say, a less organized vision of spirit. They sweat as they wait for the parade to begin, fidget as they recite the pledge of allegiance, until finally, the parade master, starts the engine of his old 1945 Allis Chalmers tractor and leads the 34 children and their parents around the block.

Four people on the route have come out of their houses to wave and the children all wave like they are famous. They walk with purpose--they have purpose--they are representing these United States of America, the future of our country, however bug-bitten and unbalanced and over-decorated it is.

And it’s not just our neighborhood. All across the country, this is happening. And some form of it is happening in countries all over the world in every season, religious and secular. Parades for the victorious and parades for the fighters. Circus parades and political parades. Up and down city blocks and around the squares of county seat courthouses. Parades on television for the folks who can’t be there and parades filmed and shown later at family reunions and graduations. French parades, Irish parades, Chinese parades. We bring out our oldest and our youngest, float them down the street with ribbons and marching bands.

Back at the park, the parade finished, the kids are orange and green from popsicles. They chase each other through the swing set and around the jungle gym. Shreds of crepe paper blow across the park and down the street. Weeks later, we find it in our yards, stuck under the fence. Waving and we didn’t even know it was windy.