On Independence Day, I had the privilege of reading a *very powerful* historic letter on the main stage of @Freedom250 on the National Mall: Major Sullivan Ballou's civil war letter to his wife, written a week before he was mortally wounded at the First Battle of Bull Run. There are many things that are beautiful about America, perhaps first and foremost is the profound patriotism of the many who fought and died to defend the ideals that this nation represents. I find Ballou's letter profound and deeply moving. He's going to war to save his nation, and, facing his own mortality, struggles between his love for his wife and children and his love of country. I have always described myself as an American exceptionalist Canadian. May the spirit of freedom and liberty of this nation never die. America, Happy 250th birthday! Here's an abridged version of the letter I read, from Ken Burns' Civil War film series: July the 14th, 1861. Washington, D.C. Dear Sarah, The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days, perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write to you again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I am no more. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how American civilization now leans upon the triumph of the government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. I am willing, perfectly willing, to lay down all my joys in this life to help maintain this government and to pay that debt. Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence can break. And yet, my love of country comes over me like a strong wind, and bears me irresistibly, with all those chains, to the battlefield. The memory of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you comes crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and to you that I've enjoyed them for so long. How hard it is for me to give them up, and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our boys grown up to honorable manhood around us. If I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I loved you. Nor that when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have sometimes been. But, oh, Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth, and flit unseen around those they love, I shall always be with you, in the brightest day and the darkest night, always, always. And when the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air on your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah, do not mourn me dead. Think I am gone, and wait for me. We shall meet again.