Originally published in the Sun City Center Observer, July 1, 1992. Reprinted by permission of Paul R. Robbins.

I have mentally said those words many times while traveling abroad.

I first said them when I saw the hideous Berlin Wall. A wall built to keep the workers from fleeing the worker's paradise. Many have gone through, under and over the wall to freedom. Numerous others have died in the attempt to reach freedom.

My People-To-People delegation went by bus through the wall at Check Point Charlie to tour East Berlin. Our guide in East Berlin was a college student. While walking through a park in East Berlin he came over to me when I was alone and said, "Would you mind giving me your name, address and phone number?"

"Why do you want them?" I responded. "Sometime, somehow, somewhere, I am going to get out of here and come to America. I might need some help," he answered.

As I handed him my card, again I was mentally saying, "Thank God I am an American."

My group flew to Budapest for several days in Hungary. One evening I was out window-shopping with a couple of delegates. While looking in a store window, I felt a tug at my sleeve. I looked around and there stood a little old lady all dressed in black and wearing a shawl over her head.

She looked up at me and in very broken English asked, "Are you American?" "Yes, I am American, " I replied. "America, the land of the free?" She whispered. She took my hand and held it for at least a couple of minutes as though she were trying to grasp just a bit of freedom from me. Meanwhile I was thinking how lucky I am to have been born in America at one of the most exciting times in history.

While in the Soviet Union I saw many troubled, unsmiling faces that again reminded me of how lucky I am to have been born in America.

There is something about being in Russia that is oppressive. I had no fear for my physical person. But, the oppression of Russia saps me both mentally and physically after being there only a few days.

This was so well demonstrated when my first delegation flew out of Leningrad mentally and physically drained. We boarded a Finnish jet for Helsinki. When we were seated on the plane several smiling Finnish stewardesses started serving refreshments. I could see my delegates starting to cheer up.

When we arrived at Helsinki the air was crisp and cool. Things and people looked western. My gang of delegates, to the last person, acted as though they had received a big shot of adrenaline, or perhaps as though they had just been released from prison.

Again. I said, "Thank God for letting me be an American."

One evening in Hong Kong my delegation invited several local People-To-People members as dinner guests. Among these guests was a British lady who now lived in Hong Kong and served as secretary for the Hong Kong People-To-People chapter. After dinner she suggested we sing "God Bless America." I thought this request unique coming from a foreigner. This song became our theme song and we sang it daily on our bus as we toured China.

Now. I don't have to be a thousand miles from home to realize how lucky I am. We are blessed with a democratic form of government, freedom for the individual, endless square miles of productive soil, skyscrapers that reach into the clouds and much, much more. Every country has problems but with our problems, America is still the greatest.

Each time I see 'Old Glory' pass by or hear the National Anthem I mutter, "Thank you, God, I am one of the luckiest people on earth. I am an American."

Millions of people from around the world would be willing to make unbelievable sacrifices to be able to say these four little words. "I am an American."