You do know what Sunday was, don't you? Let me give you a hint; go here. Got it now? Yes, it was the 235th anniversary of the ride of Paul Revere to warn the Minutemen of Lexington and Concord that the British were on the way to seize the weapons stored in Concord.
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,---
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;=
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,---
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
(Thanks, Mr. Longfellow!)
So Sunday I took a minute to write a check to be dropped into the offering plate at church. This poem was running through my head. Is it any surprise that a history geek like me would write the following on her check?
I bet you wish you were me!