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In my moment with the Declaration, as my turn comes to peer below the glass, I ponder what first I see before me: a fragile broadsheet of brittle paper now dog-eared from the miles of traveled time. I am sorrowful at her tired frailness, but, awed by her novel notion boldly shouted at an old world by one so new. Â In my moment with the Declaration, I then contemplate those bold men who dared, those men who dared to die and to change ground. I see them in a humble state house debating until sundry minds are twined. I see them, men of ideals and others practical in their cool deliberations, both great and flawed by the human blemish.
