This Is My Country!!!
Pilgrim Tract Society, INC, Randleman, N.C 27317
Roger and his sister Jean were working in their garden as Mike rode by on his bicycle.
“Hey Roger!” he called, how about playing in the park?
“ Not Now,” Roger called back. “ Got to get all the weeds pulled here first.” Mike walked over and asked, “What’s special about this garden?” “Well, our dad gave us this corner of our own, and we promised to take care of it. Besides we get to eat the vegetables ourselves.” “ O.K”, Mike said, “When you’re done we can play.” He grinned and sped away.
As he rode along, he thought about Roger’s saying that the garden was their very own. It reminded him of the song he learned in school:
This is my country! Land of my birth, This is my country! Grandest on Earth! I pledge thee allegiance, America the bold, For this is my country to have and to hold. “ I guess America does belong to me and everyone who lives here.” He thought. At dinner that evening Mike spoke up. “ Dad, when something really belongs to you, you’re proud of it, aren’t you?” “ Yes, son, what do you have in mind?” Then Mike explained how he had started thinking about America after what Roger had told him about his garden. “ If America belongs to us,” Mike added, “ we should be proud of it and take care to keep it a good land.” : How can we take care of such a big country?” asked his sister Vicki. Mother had an idea. “ We all should take care of the part where we live.” “ That might mean a lot of things.” Commented Dad. “ Like What?” everyone asked. They were all interested. Mike guessed first. “ Something like taking care of one corner of a garden, like Roger and Jean are doing?” “That’s exactly it!” said the father. “In a garden you plant seed, water it ,and then work hard to keep the weeds that would choke out the good things you planted. When it comes to taking care of your country, you plant good things like honesty, friendliness, helpfulness, love…” “That’s why you children have chores and errands around here.” Said mother. The weeds you have to watch for are things like la
ziness, selfishness, false pride and hatred. “I think I understand what you mean, Dad. But that isn’t easy. Said Mike “ Well, children, you don’t have to do it alone. Even grown- ups can’t. God’s book, the Bible, tells us how, He can give us the power to live right. But first, the Bible teaches we have all rebelled against God and His rules. God calls that sin. The Bible teaches that as long as we refuse to obey God we are not free to do what is right.” “What can we do?” the children asked. Their father explained, “God sent His Son Jesus Christ to die for your sins on the cross. Jesus had paid all the penalty for your sins. What you must do is receive Him as your savior. When Jesus comes into your life then you can do what is right because he is living through you.” “Does Jesus come into our lives just by our asking?” Yes! Father replied, “ He did it for your mother and me several years ago.” “ Then I want to ask Him right now.” Determined Mike. “ Me too!” said Vicki. “ If everyone loved Jesus we wouldn’t have so many weeds.” After Mike and Vicki had prayed to receive Jesus into their lives, their father prayed: “Dear God, thank you for Mike and Vicki receiving Jesus Christ as a Savior. Help them to love you more every day. And help them care for this great country You have given us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.” After prayer, Mike said to his siter, “Vicki, let’s tell Roger and Jean how to really make this country great.” And off they went.
My Country, ‘Tis of Thee
My country, ’tis of Thee,
Sweet Land of Liberty
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims’ pride,
From every mountain side
Let Freedom ring.
My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills,
Like that above.
Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom’s song;
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.
Our fathers’ God to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing.
Long may our land be bright,
With freedom’s holy light,
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God our King.