The American Spirit in the Writings of Americans of Foreign Birth — John Shaqi
The American Spirit in the Writings of Americans of Foreign Birth
General
The American Spirit in the Writings of Americans of Foreign Birth
American literature; Americanization; Noncitizens -- United States
soul of mankind with utterances of wonderful beauty and grandeur;
who, in his heart the best friend of the defeated South, was murdered
because a crazy fanatic took him for its most cruel enemy; who, while
in power, was beyond measure lampooned and maligned by sectional
passion and an excited party spirit, and around whose bier friend and
foe gathered to praise him--which they have since never ceased to
do--as one of the greatest of Americans and the best of men.
TRUE AMERICANISM
It is one of the earliest recollections of my boyhood that one summer
night our whole village was stirred up by an uncommon occurrence. I say
our village, for I was born not far from the beautiful spot where the
Rhine rolls his green waters out of the wonderful gate of the Seven
Mountains, and then meanders with majestic tranquillity through one of
the most glorious valleys of the world. That night our neighbors were
pressing around a few wagons covered with linen sheets and loaded with
household utensils and boxes and trunks to their utmost capacity. One
of our neighboring families was moving far away across a great water,
and it was said they would never again return. And I saw silent tears
trickling down weather-beaten cheeks, and the hands of rough peasants
firmly pressing each other, and some of the men and women hardly able
to speak when they nodded to one another a last farewell. At last the
train started into motion, they gave three cheers for _America_, and
then in the first gray dawn of the morning I saw them wending their way
over the hill until they disappeared in the shadow of the forest. And I
heard many a man say, how happy he would be if he could go with them to
that great and free country, where a man could be himself.
That was the first time that I heard of America, and my childish
imagination took possession of a land covered partly with majestic
trees, partly with flowery prairies, immeasurable to the eye, and
intersected with large rivers and broad lakes,--a land where everybody
could do what he thought best, and where nobody need be poor because
everybody was free.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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