Community united at July 4th celebration

She was a little girl in a pink T-shirt.
We noticed her shortly after we arrived. She played a mean air guitar. She danced to every tune the musicians sang. I had never seen her before but her joyful antics made us smile and envy her energy.
We had set up our chairs in front of the stage at the fairgrounds in preparation for the Fourth of July festivities. One of the musicians on stage was an ex co-worker and this was the first time I had heard him play. The music was great but the little girl in the pink T-shirt was better. They should consider hiring her to front the band.
After the musicians wrapped up their set, we turned our chairs around to face the upcoming fireworks display. We were soon treated to more unpaid entertainment in the form of three little kids. One would run up to a small tree, look up, say something I couldn’t quite hear, then run screaming back towards the crowd. A minute or so later a different one would do the same thing. Then they would hold hands and all three would creep up to the tree, look up and scream before fleeing. This went on for a good 15 minutes. I’d love to know what they saw hidden in the leaves.
We were also treated to a multitude of Chinese lanterns floating though the evening sky. We made a mental note to see if we could acquire some for the grandchildren. They would love them.
I also made a mental note to bring earplugs next year. While I enjoyed the pre-display show, I don’t care for music and commercials during the fireworks themselves. It smacks of commercialism. It seems that we have such an aversion to silence that we must fill every venue with a cacophony of noise. As I seem to be in the minority on this issue, I try to dampen the sound in my own personal space as best I can.
Soon enough, the night sky was filled with colorful sparks showering down. We jumped at the loud explosions and marveled at the patterns in the darkness. We brushed stray ashes off ourselves and wondered if we were sitting too close. We were thankful it was just fireworks and not real bombs bursting in air.
When it was finally time to go, my husband’s chair tried its best to collapse. I was afraid he was going to be trapped forever as the chair seemed determined to keep him in its grasp. An angel in the disguise of a strong young man gave him a hand and the chair reluctantly released its hold on him. We packed up and left with the agreement that it had been a beautiful day. The misbehaving chair is enjoying a prolonged time-out in the back of the car.
To me, the day had been a perfect example of what America is about. The weather was perfect, with blue skies and enough residual moisture on the ground to prevent inadvertent fires. Children were allowed to dance and play safely within sight of their families. Help was freely given when needed.
The news of all the evil in the world was forgotten, if only for a little while. We became a nation-wide community of families, not foes. For a few hours nobody cared about the things that divide us. For one day we were Americans with no hyphens, just one people, celebrating a country we call home.