TJ Hirst

My childhood memories of Independence Day include a parade of neighborhood children through our subdivision carrying homemade signs and riding tricycles and move on to the professional floats that attracted much larger crowds to Fair St. Louis beneath the Gateway Arch.

Now, we’re living in Brainerd, a smaller railroad town turned resort community in central Minnesota, and take part in what the community organizers hail as “Minnesota’s 4th of July Capital.” Truly, I am amazed that 35,000-40,000 people turn out for the parade, community corn feed and fireworks display, but there is something about a small town celebration that attracts the spirit of the day. Last year, when we visited elsewhere for the Fourth, it just didn’t feel like the same holiday to my kids.

I have mixed feelings about the large crowds that such community events draw together. When a large cross-section of people gather and bump up against one another you see and hear things you normally don’t. When my children were young and I was a little more cautious and probably a lot more judgmental, I felt on edge throughout such celebrations. Now, with time, they’ve grown easier in their needs and I’ve grown calmer in my attitude, and we all enjoy a good parade capped off with too much food and a burst of fireworks.

The parade itself is a phenomenon to me. Usually, it isn’t more than a two-hour stream of local dignitaries and princesses waving from the backs of convertibles, fire engines blaring and spraying hot crowds, floats on the backs of flatbed trucks, campaigning politicians, drum lines and dance lines, and a Shriner’s band.

This year we were honored to have General Bruce Carlson, a four-star general in the U. S. Air Force as the parade’s grand marshal. He grew up in Brainerd and is now commander of the Air Force Material Command at Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio. Even though this parade it is not a television-choreographed display of all things fantastic, the crowds staked out the best spots with blankets and lawn chairs the night before and early in the day.

All things seem right in America when you can leave your blanket along the city curb with four rocks weighing it down from the wind and come back to it eight hours later, untouched except for four complimentary flags laid upon it for us to wave while we watch. It is enough evidence to pass over current pessimism of American values and enjoy what attracts the big names and the big crowds to a small town parade.

Much has been said of late about patriotism in the news. As we celebrate our independence today, I reflect on these words that remind me that real strength is not just evidenced on days of prosperity where the grass is always green and the sunsets stunning.

. . . The year 1776 had been as dark a time as those devoted to the American cause has ever known—indeed, as dark a time as any in the history of the country. And suddenly, miraculously it seemed, that had changed because of a small band of determined men and their leader. . . The year 1776, celebrated as the birth year of the nation and for the signing of the Declaration of Independence, was for those who carried the fight for independence forward a year of all-too-few victories, of sustained suffering, disease, hunger, desertion, cowardice, disillusionment, defeat, terrible discouragement, and fear, as they would never forget, but also of phenomenal courage and bedrock devotion to country, and that, too, they would never forget.

David McCullough, 1776

In our nation today, some feel like we are a nation falling apart as we face economic hardship, political struggle, cultural conflict and natural disasters. These could destroy our hope and optimism for the future or instead, through the darkness we can discover our own courage and grow to develop characteristic American commitment to our families, communities and our nation.

We enjoy the legacy of homemade bread at our house. My mother has baked bread throughout her life. Her fresh-baked honey wheat bread with butter and honey on top was as good a snack as cookies. The smell alone was reason enough to carry forward the tradition and skills she gave me. When I married, my mother-in-law taught me how to make her heritage bread—Finnish pulla. Her mother gave her the recipe and taught her to make it, and some day I hope my girls will carry the tradition of bread making to their homes. Now, I combine both our mothers’ arts to elevate our everyday routines. We enjoy a variety of breads throughout the week, and pulla is reserved for Sunday mornings.

Finnish Pulla Bread

1 very full tablespoon active dry yeast
½ cup warm water
2 cups lukewarm milk (scalded and cooled to lukewarm)
1 cup granulated sugar (up to ½ cup more for sweeter bread)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cardamom
3 eggs, beaten
½ cup margarine or butter, softened to nearly melted
8-9 cups all purpose flour
1 whole egg, beaten and mixed with a little water
Swedish pearl sugar (available at IKEA, King Arthur Flour)

In a large bread bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water (105 - 115 degrees F). Add milk, sugar, salt, cardamom, and eggs to yeast mixture. Add 2 cups of flour. Beat with a wooden spoon or electric hand mixer until smooth. Add 3 cups more flour, beating until smooth.

Add the softened margarine or butter, and mix in until smooth. Stir in the remaining flour, ½ cup at a time until dough forms. Knead in additional flour on a floured surface until it is firm and not too sticky.

Wash and oil bread bowl. Put dough in the bowl and turn greased side up. Cover with plastic wrap and a towel. Let rise in a warm space for 2 or more hours, or until double in bulk.

Divide dough on lightly floured work surface into four equal sections. Each section will make one loaf.

Take one of these four sections and divide it into three equal sections. Make it into three long strands of dough by rolling it flat against your palms on the work surface.

Lay the strands next to each other and pinch ends together at the top. Tuck pinched end under.

Braid the three strands to the bottom.

Pinch the bottom ends together and tuck neatly underneath.

Place first braided loaf on a large rectangular greased baking sheet. Repeat with three other sections, putting two loaves on each of the two baking sheets.

Cover the four loaves loosely with plastic wrap or a towel for about 30 minutes until puffy. Meanwhile, heat the oven to 375 degrees.

Bake for 20-23 minutes, depending on your oven. Loaves should be darker brown than you expect and sound hollow when tapped. (Note: I have a convection oven and bake the loaves all four at a time. If you do not have a convection oven, bake two loaves at a time.)

While loaves are still on baking sheet, brush with beaten egg, on one part of the loaf at a time. Immediately sprinkle with pearl sugar or granulated sugar and sliced almonds while still wet.

(The hot loaves seem to cook the egg, and I use very little, but if you would rather, you can stick it back in the oven for a minute.)

Transfer loaves carefully to cooling racks. Wrap in aluminum foil. Serve, share or freeze until later use. (Frozen loaves may be defrosted on the counter overnight for breakfast.)

Slice, serve, and enjoy. Butter is not necessary when serving, but day-old pulla—if there ever is any—is nice lightly toasted and spread with butter.

And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an honeycomb.

And he took it, and did eat before them.

And he said unto them, These are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me.

Then opened he their understanding, that they might understand the scriptures,

And said unto them, Thus it is written, and thus it behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day:

And that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.

And ye are witnesses of these things.

Luke 24:42-48

When I married my husband, we both agreed that we didn’t need a holiday to tell us when or how to express our love to each other. After a few years without extra romance on Valentine’s Day, however, I sensed that I was the loser in my opinionated stand against the candy, card and flower industry. I softened that stand and have since given and received thoughtful expressions of love on that day and others. Now, I may be hardening my heart, again, toward this holiday with the current trends in Valentine’s giving amongst elementary school-age children.

When I was in elementary school, we distributed our valentines into foil-covered boxes decorated with paper doilies and construction paper hearts. We anticipated opening those identical white envelopes to read the messages from our friends and to see if we received a surprise candy heart or two. While this is probably nostalgia for the “rosy-age” of elementary-school Valentine’s parties, the focus did seem to be on our feelings for each other.

When my oldest daughter was in first grade, eight years ago, I noticed the change. While cards were still a part of the celebration, candy dominated. She came home with as many bite-size candy bars as she did on Halloween.

Now, my third grader and fifth grader are preparing for this year’s celebration. At the grocery store a couple weeks ago, I rejected the sorry selection of Bratz cards. Then, I found a crafty idea. But, it just didn’t say 10-year-old boy. I finally made it to an unnamed super center and walked up and down the seasonal display aisles looking for the usual boxes of 24 cards. When I couldn’t find any, I discovered the real truth—the card is now right on the candy. We seem to have left the cards altogether and now just give the candy.

So, my daughter ended up making construction paper cards and attaching lollipops to them. And my son? He said this, “I’m not going to bother even writing the names on mine since it’s just candy anyway.”

I said, “Please bother.”

And then he gave me a Valentine when he said, “I’ll write them tonight,” and my heart softened again.