Four year old refugee

[tavernier]

65 years ago I arrived in America, a small girl standing on the bow of a ship, looking at the Statue of Liberty. My parents were refugees who had been thrown out of their country. They weren't warmly welcomed: no refugees were, following a very bloody and divisive war. My father had to beg for a sandwich for me from the Red Cross as we awaited our sponsors at the ship's dock in New York City. They turned him down. A kind lady from the United Way approached him and gave him food for his child and wife.

I can't imagine what it would take for me to deny food to a hungry child. I hope that kind of blackness is never part of my heart.

Anyway, that's my story, 65 years ago.

[Mnemosyne]

1. I cannot imagine being that cold to anyone, much less a child. Glad you are here.

[tavernier]

2. I take this very personally

I think millions of past refugees resent being called "rabid dogs", DOCTOR Carson.

Thanks, Mnemosyne.

Forty years a nurse, I think I've contributed to my chosen country.