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John lives in a very small house on a side street in a mid-size American city. He lives a very unassuming life, by himself, and spends most of his time working on his little garden and his house. He has a vehicle made in America, although to be fair it wasn't so much a buy-American thing as it was simply what he wanted. The fact the vehicle is American is irrelevant to him.
John goes to the movies every so often, takes himself out to dinner twice a week, goes to church, and pretty much keeps to himself. Single, in his mid-forties, he still keeps in touch with some friends from the old days, but not so much anymore. Instead, he works, reads, works on his garden, and enjoys life to the fullest.
John hangs a flag outside of his house. He placed it to the right of his front door, and everyone who drives by his little house sees his flag and his house and thinks what they think. What they think is of little concern to John. During the holidays he also keeps a 'Merry Christmas' wreath on his front door. It's small and unassuming, befitting its owner. As with the flag, people who see this think what they will.
One day last week, a man and woman stopped in front of John's house. John was working on his garden when the man called out to him.
"Hi," John said, removing his gloves. He shook the man's hand, then the woman's. "How do you do?"
"This is your house?" the woman asked, nodding to the house.
"Yes."
"Are you a Republican?" the man asked, relying on the myth liberals probably do not have flags flying in front of their houses. This same myth says liberals do not celebrate the true meaning of Christmas. Strange the man would ask that as a greeting, John thought.
"No," John replied. He noticed both his visitors seemed to be looking at the flag.
"Then why do you fly this thing?" the woman asked, referring to the flag. "And why do you have that thing?" the man asked, nodding to the wreath.
"Because I'm an American."
"You can't be serious," the man said then. "You are proud to be an American with a lying criminal in the white house, a war that's killing thousands of Iraqis a month, and an economy in trouble? And you are celebrating an old ritual commercialized by greedy corporations?"
"I was born here," John said, looking at the two. "I was raised here, and I will die here." He smiled a small smile. "I am an American," he repeated.
"And the wreath?" the man asked.
"All men are brothers," John replied. "Merry Christmas," he added, smiling a small smile.
"You wish us a Merry Christmas in spite of what we just said?"
"No," John said softly. "Because of what you just said."
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