I’m currently in eastern Oregon, facilitating a community meeting with farm workers and monitoring the programs I manage. My options for food have been suddenly limited in these past few days, and identifying a place to eat in a small town that could accommodate the restrictions was a challenge; nevertheless, last night, I found a place to where I could have bland food. While eating my salad and fruit at Sizzler, I heard strains of patriotic songs from a meeting room in the restaurant, and then, suddenly, the voices of the diners around me as well, joining in and singing “God bless America.” When the soprano hit the last note of the song, the group in the meeting room moved on to some other similar piece, and the diners in my section went back to eating and talking about their days.