Black Cat Moments

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About a thousand thundering acorns fell suddenly like a night sky once filled with bright stars.  Some of them were still green, some were ready to be fancied. But only a few people understood the historic happenstance because they saw.  Throughout human existence, there were some truths that one so engulfed by them, nonetheless, one could not just waltz rapidly across the ground without tripping and landing barefoot.  One could, nevertheless, have practiced soft ways to prevent a dizzying fall. But those hardened-brown sugar bureaucrats did dance deftly around other truths.

They saw an elite group of impassioned men, whose inherit belief in their quest to birth a new country bursting with principled people, had been motivated by the moral search of Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.  They were the ones who tripped and fell over the ruffled train of my red silk gown. They were the ones who had worn loose-fitting riding boots.  They were the ones whose steel spurs ripped and cut just the right hole in it.  They were the falling silver studs.

Barefoot, I landed bleeding onto the overgrown oak trees. General George Washington did not have that desired patience Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, or John Adams, had when it came to exercising diplomacy. The General counted on his militia, and my fall had not been a Whiskey Rebellion.  As my blood ran in rivulets down my legs, I overheard the others whisper: America will be an experiment in search of Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness, and that journey will lie at the foot of two oak trees, where on the one hand, her national defense will necessitate acts of war, while on the other, a committed citizenry.