This poem, while short, encapsulates my worldview and has proven definitive in the formation of it.
“Nationality” by Dame Mary Gilmore (Australian)
I have grown past hate and bitterness,
I see the world as one;
But though I can no longer hate,
My son is still my son.
All men at God’s round table sit,
and all men must be fed;
But this loaf in my hand,
This loaf is my son’s bread.
Boadicea's Chariot 
My sentiments too.
Chris, it’s a noble sentiment, I agree. Unfortunately many people with sons also believe in the supremacy of their own ideas, be they religious or political and then the rouble starts.
Er…trouble 🙂
Janus: for some the trouble starts at the sight of a rouble so you might be on to something.