I am not a very politically-minded person. Until this year, I'd never concerned myself too much with that whole business and had not even watched the debates. I guess now that I'm all grown up I figured it was time to be more informed than usual.
Truth be told, I didn't really like what I saw. I couldn't get excited about Obama or McCain. While listening to their debates I found myself wondering which man's ideas seemed less crazy. I know that many people feel passionate about their chosen candidate; I applaud that devotion. I just didn't feel it.
Since I didn't feel sure about who I wanted to vote for, I was filled with angst over the decision of who would get my vote. I listened, read, prayed, and meditated for help to make this important decision.
When I entered my assigned polling place, all of my angst melted away as I looked around me. I saw people of African, Asian, and Middle Eastern descent dressed in police uniforms, professional work suits, work-out clothes and casual wear. We were a mishmash of all kinds of people, there together because we love our country and want it to move smoothly in a good direction. But also there because of an even more important reason: we can be there, voting.
This little thought got me all teary-eyed right there in that middle school gymnasium. I was overcome with gratitude to be a citizen of this wonderful country. I know it's not perfect; it never will be--it's run by imperfect people. But it's my country and I get to have a say in which imperfect people call the shots. And that's really something wonderful.