A close friend of mine just sent me this photo of his daughter-in-law, who celebrated becoming an American citizen the other day.

Looking at the sheer exuberance in this young woman’s face as she proudly waves her new flag, I was struck that even though we call each other names, accuse one another of being unpatriotic, and attack our leaders on a regular basis (all quintessentially American activities, by the way), there are still people who admire what we are so much that they passionately want to be one of us.

I once helped a Nicaraguan friend, who was already in her seventies, study for her citizenship exam.

While she was allowed to take it in Spanish, she was expected to recall facts about this nation so esoteric that I doubt a high-school civics teacher could have received a perfect score. It took her a few tries, but she persevered. She finally succeeded.

We who are lucky enough to have been born within the geographical borders of this country can’t fully appreciate the gift bestowed upon us through no act of our own. We tend to take it for granted, since we’ve never been deprived of it.

Only someone who has not been an American for much of his or her life can truly grasp the promise of hope, potential, and above all the ingrained reverence for the sanctity of individual rights that American citizenship offers.

A couple of days ago, this young lady was a Filipina. Then, she raised her hand and took an oath of citizenship. Now, she is one of us. No hyphens, just an American--free to complain, along with the rest of us, about everything she thinks is wrong with this country.

When you put it that way, who wouldn’t want to be an American?