I’ll never forget my first parade on July 4. We parked in our church parking lot that was just off of Main St. and we all sat on the swings in the play ground waiting for everything to go by us.

It was a typical July 4, the sun was coming down warming everything and everybody. With every breath I took I inhaled the aromas of hash and watermelon. The fire departments were all out in their aprons and large pots with steam coming out of them.

There were vendors with slices of watermelon and cotton candy, my hands were getting sticky just thinking about it.

And off in the distance you could hear the steady whir of a ice cream churns spinning in all that ice and salt, it was a GOOD DAY.

The parade began with a tune from John Phillips Susa that made every body gathered along Main St. stand up and look up the street. We all strained our eyes looking between the hundreds of banners of red, white, and blue, that saturated the town that day, looking for that sound that was coming our way.

I remember getting down from that swing in the church play ground and walking down the hill that was across the Muffler shop to get a better look.

And between the balloon, flags, and a family of four I saw the parade. With majorettes pumping their arms giving direction to the large marching band that was following behind.

The trombones were going in and out and the drummers were keeping a steady beat on those big barrels that were strapped on their chests.

And the crowd was clapping and cheering as they marched past.

And then I saw what I came to see, the beauty queen. She came around the corner pulled by a 1956 Chevy truck wearing a white evening gown wearing a big crown on her head, pretty as she could possibly be.

Although she was at least 15 years older than I was, I tucked my t-shirt in and licked my hair back and stood as far on the edge of the street as I could and waved, as if I had a chance to capture the heart of that lady who sat on a moving float.

As she came by she waved at me, and for a moment our eyes locked, a boy of ten and a women of 25, and I just knew she felt the same as I did. But for some reason, that float kept moving and she waved at other people and I knew deep inside that it wasn’t meant to be.

As I shoved my hands in my pockets and turned around to go back to the playground, I saw something I’d never seen before in the corner of my eye and I turned around.

Holding little American flags and dressed in clothes that hadn’t been worn in over 40 years were old soldiers who were all walking as straight as they could be, as proud as they could be.

And it was then I realized that the parade wasn’t about fire department hash, watermelons or even beauty queens, but it was for those men in the faded green and brown uniforms who were walking by, the veterans of the wars who fought to preserve our freedom.

But you know there are some wars that we don’t hear about. There were some battles that were fought that we don't even know about.

When the second World War ended in 1945, some Marines who had served in the South Pacific fighting the Japanese were sent to China as the Communists and Nationalist resumed their civil war.

Just as one war was finished, another one started and these men went to battle yet again.

One company in the 4^th Marine, 1^st Marine Division were sent to protect an air base. It was late fall and cold as winds blew in from the Gobi desert. The Marines were having to do without sleeping bags and winter coats and they were trying to build a fire to bring at least some warmth in, but the winds were too strong and they just couldn’t get the fire going and they were getting colder by the second.

As their teeth were chattering and their feet were getting numb, a little Chinese boy brought them kindling to help start their fire.

And then a few days later the little boy brought them boiled eggs and ten pounds of peanuts. The Marines gave the boy some money for the food and he went back home and bought food and clothing for his family.

The little Chinese boy came around the Marines often and smiled in awe at them. For they came from a place that was free and they were here near his house to protect freedom everywhere.

The little boy didn’t know what freedom was like because he had lived under the threat of Communist China and all he had known was fear from the soldiers who frequently came around his village making sure everyone was cooperating with the Communist rule.

But he believed that the place were these Marines came from was an extraordinary place, it had to be, because these Marines were free!

So he did everything he could to be around the hope of freedom. The Marines took the little boy under their wing. They couldn’t pronounce his name so they called him Charlie Two Shoes.

They gave him a khaki uniform and taught him English and how to shine his shoes.

When those Marines were shipped several miles away, Charlie’s father let him go with the Marines. There he was given a bunk in the Marine’s barracks and went to a Catholic Missionary school. He was a part of their family.

He became a Christian and learned English.

But in 1949, the Marines were shipped out and nothing they could do would let Charlie Two Shoes go with them. And as the Marines left the dock, 14 year old Charlie saluted them as they left.

And then life took a hard turn for Charlie. With the Communists in full control of China they imprisoned him for seven years for not denouncing the Marines and the United States.

And once released from prison he was under house arrest for ten more years, but he still kept believing in that place called American where those Marines came from.

Charlie began to write letters to those Marines, and in 1983, those Marines helped bring him over to that place that gave hope to Charlie during those times of intense fear in jail and under house arrest, they brought him to the United States of America.

They gave him 5000 dollars, a place to live and work, and a used car, he was living the life that those Marines talked about so much thirty years earlier. But his realization of freedom was still a long way away.

The Marines brought Charlie to America under a visitor’s visa and the Immigration and Naturalization Service refused to extend his stay in the land of the free.

Charlie was once again faced with the fear of going back to Communist China, a place that held nothing for him.

18 days before he was to go back to China, President Ronald Reagan gave Charlie an indefinite stay in America.

Charlie believed in America. His belief in this place was stronger than his fear of Communist China and his belief brought him here, where he is now free.

Yesterday, 17 years after fighting with the INS, and with 60 Marines watching from that company in the 1^st Marine Division, the LOVE company, Charlie Two Shoes became an American, he became a free man.

The synagogue ruler came to Jesus begging him to help his daughter who was dying. So Jesus went with him. As they were walking the crowd came upon them, the ruler was thinking of nothing but his child, the FEAR of her death consumed him.

While Jesus was speaking, some men came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue ruler. "Your daughter is dead,’ they said, ‘why bother the teacher any more?"

Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, "Do not be afraid; just believe."

When he walked into the house of the ruler, he said to the child, ‘little girl, I say to you, get up’, and she stood up and walked around.

She was free.

Our belief is stronger than our fear. Our belief sets us free, free from doubt, free from despair, free from death.

Today we celebrate our Independence from death and sin, by affirming our dependence on Christ. Today we remember the shedding of his body and blood for us so that we would know fear no longer and by the mystery and power of belief, we will be free.