I for one am eternally grateful for all immigrants and refugees courageous and desperate enough to face death just to provide the *hope* of a better opportunity to their families.
My grandmother escaped the Holocaust. Her bravery is the ONLY reason I’m alive and that I *and my children* EXIST on this planet. It’s a sad state of affairs that can’t remember its roots just two generations ago about how most of us came to be in this country and on the planet.
Even though my grandmother is no longer with us, her struggles and steadfast resolve to suffer for the sake of her children and grand- / great-grandchildren she could never even dream of is appreciated DAILY.
Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
by Emma Lazarus, New York City, 1883
Inscribed on the Statue of Liberty