They call you "Jewel of the Inland Empire," and that couldn't be more accurate. The territory you encompass varies greatly from east to west and from north to south. The mountains rise up before you to protect you, a gargantuan "R" forever engraved as a reminder to all whose land this is.

Once your most prized export was the navel orange, a symbol of Southern California pride. Now your groves are a dying breed, but the spirit of a bygone era still live on in the hearts of your residents.

Spring represents new life in all parts of the world, but for me, it holds a special significance. Each spring, the orange trees blossom, filling the air with the sweet scent of a fresh start and a new beginning. Though winters are never harsh, the coming of spring is that much more important for you and your inhabitants.

You have nurtured me in a way that I have mostly taken for granted; you always strive to be the best in order to fulfill the needs of everyone, young and old and in between. I grew up thinking that this was how everyone had it, but of course that is not the case. When my youthful naivety began to dwindle, I found myself becoming well aware of the stark contrast between my city and the other cities surrounding me. Not that these other places don't have their own merits, but when compared side by side, it seems that you are quite simply the best.

I remember traveling downtown and strolling along State Street, where the centuries-old charm of the past is still quite vivid. A couple blocks away, the historic Smiley Library still stands tall and proud, and across the street, the Redlands Bowl remains as a center for great gatherings of people from all walks of life.

And that's what you truly represent, Redlands: a place for everyone, where all can feel at home and enjoy their best lives. You are my hometown, and for that I will be forever grateful.