Posted on 07/01/2004 4:08:34 AM PDT by Clive
If this is a typical Canada Day, the most sought out, most visited tiny spot of land in the entire country will be swathed in tiny flags by the end of the day.
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is situated in the very heart of Ottawa, whose downtown core becomes a sea of partygoers each July 1.
From kiddies in their Canada hats, to teens draped in flags, to grandmas and grandpas decked out in their red pants and white shoes, the entire centre of the city will overflow with hundreds of thousands celebrating the holiday.
They'll dance on Parliament Hill, giggle at buskers in Major's Hill Park, cool off in fountains on Sparks St. and the Byward Market, chomp on chicken and hot dogs and poutine, and surrounded by all the revelry many will make a brief and somber stop.
By midnight, after the fireworks are silent and the crowds have dispersed, this single most hallowed spot in the country will be layered in tiny paper flags.
They'll be carefully placed on the Tomb, in a gentle act of gratitude to those who fought for freedom.
It is similar to the scene each Remembrance Day.
That's when, after the wreath-laying by the official parties at the National War Memorial, ordinary citizens who attend the ceremonies walk up to the brass and granite Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and drop their poppies and bouquets of fresh flowers in silent tribute.
It is a deeply moving part of each Nov. 11.
But on Canada Day, this deliberate, solemn, and collective gesture of dropping off flags stands out amidst the merrymaking.
There is no organized ritual, no public invitation to participate, it is entirely spontaneous.
Not by the thousands, most are too caught up in the festivities, but certainly by the hundreds they'll pause and place their flags.
Canadians at their best, saying a simple thank you.
Our family made the mistake one Canada Day of camping at Algonquin Park.
Don't get me wrong: It's beautiful up there, I'd go at a moment's notice, but never again on July 1.
Somehow it didn't feel right not to be celebrating.
My wife and I vowed never to do it again.
Whether it's downtown in the capital, or in a smaller community, we need our Canada Day fix.
We have to stand with others and sing the anthem, crowd gaze and amaze ourselves at the diversity of people who make Canada their home.
At the parade in Quyon, the Sunset Ceremonies in Fort Henry, picnicking at Kingsmere, or caught up in the seemingly semi-annual downpour on Parliament Hill, we party because it is worth partying.
For all our political disagreements and frustrations, there is no place on Earth where they have it better than Canadians.
So good, some become so self-absorbed, so apathetic they forget to vote and take it all for granted. But before you begin to worry that they are the norm, join the river of revellers downtown today, or take your lawn chair to the band concert at Andy Hayden Park.
Reassure yourself that by far, most of us know we have something worth celebrating and protecting.
None more so than those who will visit the Tomb and pay their respects.
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English Canada remembers. French Canada has forgotten.
I'm surprised those Leftists even consider the military worth celebrating.
I used to celebrate Dominion Day.
Since the Trudeaupian Liberal coup, I honour my country on Nov. 11 only.
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