How
was I to know that there was someone in the backseat leaning against
the door? She almost fell out as I opened the door, but I was quick
to note her gorgeous platinum hair and exquisite handbag! Naturally
I quickly shut the door, went to the driver's side, apologized and
tried to remain remain quiet for the rest of the ride while only
gazing forward.
But
I could restrain myself only so long and begin a conversation with
the driver, John. Finally getting to my "attention-getting
statement, 'I'm 92'” I was finally able to look at the young lady
as she spoke in what I learned was a Ukrainian accent. How
fascinating to learn that she has been here as a refugee for one year
but her status is uncertain. Her crime? Participating in rallies
against government corruption and support of the LGBT community!
Oh
how I would like to have our president each day read the words on the
Statue of Liberty:
“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!”
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!”
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