Its hard not to get swept away in the high tide of American patriotism these days - Old Glory is flying higher and higher almost everywhere you go. Even on the open road, we are awash in America's rekindled sense of self and purpose. From pickup trucks with full sized flags whipping urgently in the wind behind them, to the small red, white and blue ribbons atop our antennas, people want each other to know that we're all in it together.

It's a good thing, isn't it.

If you haven't gotten misty eyed at the sound of our National Anthem or "America The Beautiful" in the last three months, you are either from another planet or have joined the ranks of the walking dead of this world. Having traveled to Charlottesville for the last three Virginia home football games, I can tell you that when those young men and women raise that flag in the middle of the field and that lone voice is joined by 40,000 others, there aren't many tear ducts lying idle. If there are, it's either a guy on his first date trying to look woefully more manly than necessary, or a young lady who likewise is fighting off the dreaded mascara run.

There is something very special about standing among such a diverse group of Americans - doctors and truck drivers, linemen and lawyers, shop workers and secretaries - and if but for a moment at least, accepting the realization that we're all pretty much the same beneath the titles and the clothes and the different hues of skin we take so seriously.

Even during the Virginia Tech game there was a moment when I almost felt as one with my Hokie brethren across the way. It was a brief respite from the antagonisms of an otherwise joyful rivalry, that ended quickly when they shellacked our quarterback, but for a moment there, I was sure I knew what true patriotism is all about. I recall thinking that if Osama Bin Laden can unite a bunch of Wahoos and Hokies, he's in some serious trouble - which is perhaps best evidenced by the fact that he has the United States Marine Expeditionary Force after him.

These are not people you want on your trail.

All those plans sounded a little better sitting around the campfire, didn't they Osama?

But as powerful as singing the National Anthem among so many fellow Americans has been, it paled in comparison to a recent trip I took with my daughter Gussie's first grade class to the Veteran's Administration Hospital in Salem, Va. A couple of weeks earlier the class had performed an inspiring collection of readings and patriotic songs for the parents, one of whom was so impressed with the performance (we all were of course), that they felt taking the show on the road to the "V-A" might be a good idea. Daughter Gussie had a speaking part and I had never been to the V-A before, so I volunteered to be one of the chaperones.

We all met the bus at 10:30 in front of the school, and 20 minutes and 78,000 decibels later we arrived at the V-A Center. If your job has been getting you down lately, and you think no one has it quite as tough as you, then I suggest you take a short ride on a school bus full of first graders and imagine yourself as the driver. Given my choice between this position and becoming a member of the Marine Expeditionary Force, I'm not so sure I wouldn't take the latter.

But armed with clear and concise instructions from their teachers, the children filed off the bus quietly and orderly and proceeded to the large glass atrium that is part of the main entrance to the 210 acre facility. They were divided into thirds by their shirts which were either red, white or blue and were quite the sight as they climbed the risers in preparation to sing. A small group of veterans and care givers began to assemble, and by the time the kids had finished their first song, an upbeat rendition of "The Pledge of Allegiance", a nice little crowd was on hand. Gussie recited her part perfectly, which of course reflected the extraordinary charm and character of her parents. (i.e. she paused in all the right places). The rest of the children did likewise. As before, it was quite the show.

But the highlight for me came as I watched an elderly veteran in a wheelchair who had lost a leg - presumably for the rest of us - come wheeling towards the crowd. He wore a slight scowl and it was clear he simply wanted to cross over to the other side of the assembly to get where he was going. But to do so he had to pass between the children and the audience. He hesitated a moment and then began to push his way across. The introduction to Lee Greenwood's "God Bless The USA" was playing and the children had just begun to sing as he started. About halfway across they began the refrain:

And I'm proud to be an American
where at least I know I'm free.
And I won't forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me.
And I'd gladly stand up next to you
and defend her still today.
'Cause there ain't no doubt I love this land,
God bless the U.S.A.

The grizzled old Vet brought himself to a stop and then slowly turned to behold the children, the stump of his leg clearly catching some of them off guard. But they kept singing loudly and boldly and for one brief and shining moment the sacrifices of his past met the thankful and unbridled confidence of their future, and something of glory was made. He sat there as they completed the song and then as the loud and long applause filled the hall he slowly turned and continued on his way, his tear stained cheeks matching the vast majority of ours.

I couldn't help but think that those children and that old gentlemen had just given each other something exceedingly precious, and that they in turn had shared whatever had been between them with us. Perhaps it was what amounts to "true patriotism" - the thankful caring and sharing of the trials and joys of one another in the common brotherhood of humanity. A compassion born of something greater than ourselves that realizes that none of us can rest comfortably in our own skins until the rest of us have the opportunity to do the same.

Such patriotism doesn't stop at any particular border, but rather extends to wherever the dignity of human life is valued and prayers of hope for one another are made. It can stretch from the innocent heart of a child to the doubting soul of an old soldier and even to me and you if we are brave enough to let it.

May God continue to bless America and all "true patriots" everywhere.