Many years ago I wrote an article that was published in a small newspaper – whose name I can’t remember – that serviced the area where I lived. Shortly before the July 4th holiday they asked folks to send in something they had written that celebrated some aspect of the holiday. I had an essay that I had written a few years earlier about the head of the Statue of Liberty so sent it off, and it got published.
Recently I came across this article and was struck by how it was written: the POV is from a division between the head and heart. I see now that that is a great cause of conflict but is a POV that is common to mankind. Notwithstanding that fact, I liked the essence of what I had to say back then so am publishing it here. There’s just one idea in the article that disturbs me: “men to match her mountains” – where are they?
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M’LADY
With a cold analytical eye I view the head of the Statue of Liberty with amusement and disdain. She has the coarse features of a man and the smudges commonly associated with little boys. The seven-pronged tiara atop her copper head is reminiscent of the helmet of a long-forgotten knight. Since her hair resembles a powdered wig dating from the Middle Ages it is a blessing that she stands so high and therefore, can’t be seen too closely.
She has a dazed, half-dozing, complacent look which belies the symbolism of radiance and defense that’s attributed to her. Overall, she leaves me wondering about the taste and dignity – and sanity – of the man who created her. I wonder, too, about the intelligence of a country that would point to her with pride.
On the other hand, when I look at her with my heart she takes on softness and grace. I see a crown of thorns wisely placed on a head whose eyes never close, whose vigilance never ends, whose hope never dies. In her face I see the height and breadth of a nation who adopted her as their own, then found that it was she who owned the nation, allowing each of us to live here through the grace of her generosity while gently reminding us that we are all representatives of these United States.
I see the faith and guidance she exudes to all who are persecuted throughout the world. The hand she extends to those who have crawled upon her shores. The freedom, opportunity, and abundance she offers to all. I see the mind, the soul, and the freedom of man being challenged by tyranny and coercion. The Lady stands as a symbol that man can not only rise to meet such a challenge, but did.
From her lofty perch she shouts that opportunity will always knock, that liberty will survive the subjugation and greed that oppose it, and she weeps for those who live under oppression.
Her stately spirit is formed by the noble men who have died to make this country great, and is constantly being renewed by those who work to maintain its greatness. After tears of blood, broken spirits, and desolation her place in the sun is secure. The radiance of her might shines across the world to help direct the way of all those who seek their place. The beam she sends forth carries tenderness, wisdom, truth – and courage, strength, justice.
Behind her calm eyes I see a fierceness that almost frightens me, stayed only by the benevolence and discernment that serve to reassure me. She looks confident that Time cannot erase what her Spirit has built. She’ll always have men to match her mountains because she’ll produce them.
In some small way she belongs to me alone – my own personal symbol of greatness and goodness. But I’m happy to share her with my fellowman, providing the viewpoint is always from the heart.
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Ojai22: Lessons Learned 