7/2024
Some thoughts on the 4th of July, and how immigrating to the US restored honor to my family:
After surviving the unspeakable horrors of the Holocaust, my grandparents on both sides languished for years in the squalid conditions of Displaced Persons camps in Europe, eagerly hoping to immigrate to the USA.
Severe antisemitism was still rampant, and no survivor wanted to remain in Europe. Nor did the countries they found themselves in want to keep them as citizens.
Moving to Israel wasn't an option; they had gone through too much pain and suffering to consider moving to the then-severely unstable country.
Stateless and penniless, they didn't despair, married, and both my parents were born as stateless children of refugees with an uncertain future.
My father's family finally immigrated to the US in 1949, my mother in 1953.
With God's help, the generosity of relatives and the greater Jewish community, they were able to rebuild a respectable life in the USA.
Our family will never forget how the US accepted us with open arms when nobody else wanted us. How the people in the US are tolerant and accepting of those who may have a different religion or culture, on a level unseen anywhere else.
God bless America!
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