MOTHER OF EXILES—MY COUNTRY TIS OF THEE, SWEET LAND OF LIBERTY

Our nation is made up of close to three centuries of
Family migration seeking refuge from persecution in
The USA

I hope that with thoughts of heartfelt
Compassionate for your ancestry

 We can set our defense systems

Aside in favor of mustering compassion for

Men, women and children who are desperately

Seeking safe haven from heartless persecution—

Right now—leaving me to ask how can

Anyone win a presidential election, who

Leads our nation toward tearing children from

The arms of destitute mothers and fathers, who—
Like our ancestors, are presently seeking asylum in
The USA in the only way that makes sense to them—walking
Walking, hopefully away from the only homes they know
In hopes of making their way toward the same sense of
Personal freedom that our ancestors had hoped to
Off their young while praying, with every step they take that
The words engraved for all time upon the base of
The lady holding forth the torch in the harbor will burn as
Brightly for them as my grandparents pinned
Their hopes and prayers upon being embraced by
Those who had already established residency so as to
Offer my family honest work with which to support
My parents, and as a result of compassionate acceptance
Both of my grandmothers, along with my mother and father
Beamed as I crossed the stage to collect
My college diploma—with honors before my sister did the same

About four years back, in the immediate aftermath of
My mother's death, my intuitive powers sat me down to
Pen the stories of my grandparents' migration from
Persecution in Russia and Poland to spiritual salvation
Found in the USA.  At that time I did not know of
The existence of a tablet that exists inside
The Lady's pedestal upon which is engraved
The following sonnet, written by Emma Lazarus (1849-1887): 

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes
Command the air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"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-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" 

And so I ask, what will our governing body, so newly elected to represent each of us, choose to do with the tired, poor, huddled masses, marching toward our border, yearning to breathe free and praying to save their children from harm?  Shall we lift the LADY’s lamp, guiding the homeless toward the golden door of liberty for all or shall we feel the dark chill of cold-hearted souls blow out the torch while tearing terrified children from the arms of parents desperate for a better life before we hear echoes of 'LOCK the lot of THEM UP'?

Do you realize that more than 200 terrified children, whom trump had separated from their parents are still separated from their parents?

Do you realize that the whereabouts of some of those children have been lost in the system?

Do you remember German soldiers saying:  I was just following orders?

Oh My God!

What are we to do?

I do not pretend to have intuitive answers to questions that must torment the intelligence of most of our elected officials; what I have done is my best to cast my vote for kind hearted men and women, elected to speak for me, because generation after generation—history repeats itself—and that’s why it’s not enough to sing hymns of kindness in churches or to faithfully recite words imprinted in prayer books in unison in synagogues throughout the nation or bow humbly to the ground in mosques and then close our eyes and turn away from the plight of families seeking asylum, today—it is the responsibility of each next generation inclusive of our own to conscientiously seek deep within heart and soul in hopes of financing intelligent, compassionate ways to resolve life’s most distressing controversial conundrums by reminding ourselves that our future is in the hands of today's children, and the heart of society as a whole is judged by the ways that tender hearted, innocent children—all children—not just your children and mine—are handled with grace—NOT manhandled—for God sake!
Hmmm ...
What are we to do?

THE MENORAH (SYMBOLIC OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT’S BURNING NEED FOR LIBERTY) CONJOINS WITH LADY LIBERTY’S TORCH

During my grandparents’ youth, it was not uncommon for calloused governing bodies to turn a blind eye while 'progroms' terrorized my kinfolk who had no 911 to call when ruffians, drunk with personal power, destroyed lives longing for no more than to live with loved ones in times of peace—similar to Israeli families, who, presently, are repeatedly called to task on the world stage for retaliating to decades of war mongering threats to drive the Jewish people into the sea, suggesting, yet again, that from one century to the next hateful attitudes will continue to be absorbed from generation to generation unless more of us raise our voices proactively so as to silence rabble rousing bullies by creating attitudinal changes for the better in today's youth before the lives of grandchildren targeted for death by enemies launching fiery missiles (presently aimed at my cousins in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv) are yours and mine.

Time and again, history has clearly demonstrated that if we turn a blind eye to missiles aimed at my cousins’ homes then we can expect 9/11 to repeat in the same way that turning a blind eye to our nation’s need for gun control unleashes one mad man after another (none of whom value human life) to participate in drive by shootings while others, continuing to run rampant through our streets, gun down our countrymen's loved ones (before taking their own lives), because things get better or worse but they don't stay the same, so rather than my going on and on in hopes of driving home the main point of this week's train of thought (concerning blinding ourselves to the fact that each time we adopt passive roles we release history to repeat itself), let’s highlight need to grow more attentive to hindsight so as to embrace proactive roles by continuing to vote for politicians who will mindfully and thus courageously pass legislation focused upon creating change for the better or else as the future unfolds, the numbers of red hatted bullies, raising their young to absorb attitudes that will boldly gang up on our grand kids, who, aping our passive roles, will be apt to hand over their lunch money on the playground until (God forbid) trump's youth, brainwashed to become as aggressive as their parents, who, presently attend trump's rallies, will grow up to become tomorrow's Gestapo on American soil

Below, you’ll see a picture of a menorah, which symbolizes the human spirit’s eternal struggle to rise above the mean minded attitudes of bullies by lighting our way toward reflecting over constant need to muster the courage necessary to defeat those dark souls whose rise to power (within every generation) arouses the malcontent to make war against your right and mine to live freely in times of peace regardless of your religious affiliation or mine—and now, having shed light on the repetitive nature of history, yet again, let's view this artfully rendered symbol of the human spirit’s eternal need to heed our brethren's desperate cry for freedom—worth a thousand words spoken in every language by downtrodden souls, throughout the world—

(But first, here’s my plan for today:  While Ravi and I frost Thanksgiving cookies, shaped like turkeys, I'll introduce my grand daughter to my appreciative gratitude of her great-grandparents' arduous (and thus courageous) move away from oppression toward freedom to live in peace, thus planting attitudinal seeds of how much it means to our family to reside in a nation, like the U.S.A., where, voters—whether Democrats or Republicans—must not take our freedom to cast our votes for granted or else red hatted bullies, growing in number, will surely stomp on our freedoms, one by one.  And though Ravi may not understand a word of what I say, today, the fact that her family recites proactive ideology, concerning our need to work together to embrace active roles so as to create change for the better, my grand daughter’s active, young mind will absorb the depths of our passion to preserve our hard won freedoms, little by little, over time.  And knowing that each of the pictures below is worth a thousand words, I'll take her hand in mine as we make our way from the kitchen into the guest bedroom, where photos, honoring her great-great grandparents and her great grandparents and her grand parents cover the expanse of an entire wall, because, as Ravi continues to develop a mind of her own, my sense of doing my share to ensure that 'progress', inching forward, is underway offers my grand daughter sound reason to grow toward consciously observing her role models actively honoring a balance between embracing change for the better while simultaneously maintaining traditions, which continue to feel so heartily enriching that our family believes they are worthy of safe keeping by way of repeating, year after year.)

 Spirit Day

My mother's parents

My parents

My dad's parents

Me

Will and I
Triple frame on the dresser hold snapshots of Tony, Ravi and Ray
(Ravi’s jumping horse releases her spirit to leap freely, all around our house)

   Art symbolizing the human spirit's need for freedom through the ages

"This Statue of Liberty Hanukkah menorah was designed by Manfred Anson in 1985.
At the base of each statue is engraved a milestone in the struggle for Jewish freedom, from
'Exodus from Egypt' at far right to 'Israel 1948' at far left."

This year, the spirit of Hanukkah, honoring freedoms hard won, will be celebrated soon after
Thanksgiving as though conjoining our nation's appreciation of freedom (beginning with
The Pilgrims inviting Native Americans to dine in thanksgiving after surviving their first brutal winter with
The help of new friends until—the negatively focused side of human nature arose, driving
Everyone's desire to live in peace straight toward war).
And knowing that history repeats itself, time and again, as was true during
Ancient times, I see this coming Thanksgiving and Chanukah connecting
The courageous spirit of my ancestors with that of the Pilgrims (and Native Americans)
All of whom refused to be bullied into passivity.

Now, going forward, lets add thoughts of Martin Luther King leading marches and
Hispanic children torn, most recently, from the arms of destitute parents while
Muslim families, emigrating to the land of the free and the home of the brave, fleeing
Oppression in the Middle East, continue to build mosques in which to pray for peace
And as hindsight historically suggests that most parents work toward
Improving the lives of our precious offspring, you can see why I honor my grandparents for
Having mustered the courage (as did Tevya) to pack up their children while tearfully leaving
Everyone and everything they knew and loved behind in hopes of
Setting sail in steerage for the new world, where Will and I were born to raise
Barry, Steven and David to shrug off an attitude of fearful submission to
Leadership, which time and again, proves as brutal and callous as trump's dictates would
Be if red hatted voters gained the power to continue to free
His self-aggrandizing ego to reign supreme ...

And thus, though we have much work left to do to secure our safety from
Leadership focused upon world domination, yet again
I feel deeply appreciative of the results of this most recent election, which offers hope reason to
Stand up and cheer, freeing my spirit to approach this season of Thanksgiving with 
Positive focus intact concerning our nation's communal determination to place its faith in
Our voting process to recreate change for the better as peaceably as possible as
The future continues to unfold—
My country tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing!

ON THE HEELS OF PITTSBURGH, A SHOOTER KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY, AGAIN

Robert Bowers, shot several times in Pittsburgh, is in fair condition in a hospital..

"Please know that justice in this case will be swift, and it will be severe," stated Scott Brady, the chief federal prosecutor in western Pennsylvania, characterizing the slaughter as a 'terrible and unspeakable act of hate."

This did not reassure Robert Bowers.
Why not?
Because he was the shooter.

Perhaps a vigilant sense of gun control legislation would have curtailed his freedom to purchase firearms, thus thwarting his aim to set out on a killing spree that ended eleven lives, horrifically.

In a peaceful house of worship.

In the past, mass murders were so few and far between as to sear the names of those cold blooded killers into our memories—names like Jack the Ripper, Son of Sam, Jeffrey Dahmer, Charles Manson—whereas today, the name of one mass murderer follows another as fast as an automatic rifle snuffs out human lives as though mowing us down matters as little as firing at a series of wooden ducks, lined up within the booth at a county fair.

Soon after Pittsburgh, young people, square dancing in California, lost their lives to yet another nameless hate mongerer, prodding me to state today’s viewpoint as clearly as possible while logic works to wrestle layers of tightly coiled frustration to the mat —

With freshly dug graves continuing to add to the number of grief struck mourners in city after city, time to legislate change for the better is SERIOUSLY long overdue.

The fact that our law makers continue to turn a blind eye to our nation’s dire need for gun control is truly ‘a terrible, unspeakable act of indifference' whether we describe cold blooded killers as weapon-waving maniacs or armed men who trampled my grandparents’ peace of mind during pogroms.

Though millions may pray—God help us—I hope and pray that newly elected law makers will open their eyes to need to work together, at long last, to protect their countrymen, women and children from gun slinging, hate obsessed attitudes unleashed during rallies led by a forked tongued, fire-spewing dragon who cares naught for anyone’s well being other than his own reflection of egocentric self-aggrandizement that stares back from his mirror—

Please God—let change for the better in The House signify the first step toward creating change for the better concerning removing easy access to gun ownership from hands that shake with murderous intent—

Our constitutional right to bear arms was meant for self protection not for arming lunatics, hell bent on next week’s killing spree ...

HISTORICALLY, PROGRESS (CHANGE FOR THE BETTER) IS KNOWN TO INCH TWO STEPS FORWARD ONE BACK

“American Jews Know How This Story Goes”

The way forward from Pittsburgh is written in our prayer books.

By Dara Horn

Ms. Horn is the author of five novels.

• Nov. 2, 2018

Image

The final resting place for Rose Mallinger, one of 11 killed in the shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue.CreditCreditJeff Swensen/Getty Images

“There are no words.”

This was what I heard most often last weekend from those who were stunned by the news: 11 people were murdered at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh — believed to be the largest massacre of Jews on American soil. But there are words for this, entire books full of words: the books the murdered people were reading at the hour of their deaths. News reports described these victims as praying, but Jewish prayer is not primarily personal or spontaneous. It is communal reading. Public recitations of ancient words, scripts compiled centuries ago and nearly identical in every synagogue in the world. A lot of those words are about exactly this.

When I told my children what had happened, they didn’t ask why; they knew. “Because some people hate Jews,” they said. How did these American children know that? They shrugged. “It’s like the Passover story,” my 9-year-old told me. “And the Hanukkah story. And the Purim story. And the Babylonians, and the Romans.” My children are descendants of Holocaust survivors, but they didn’t go that far forward in history. The words were already there.

The people murdered in Pittsburgh were mostly old, because the old are the pillars of Jewish life, full of days and memories. They are the ones who come to synagogue first, the ones who know the words by heart. The oldest victim was Rose Mallinger, 97.

The year Ms. Mallinger was born was the tail end of the *mass migration of more than two million Eastern European Jews to America between 1881 and 1924.   (Both my mother and father arrived during that time period as tots.) Many brought with them memories of 'pogroms', of men invading synagogues with weapons, of blood on holy books. (As a child, I remember feeling horrified while listening to both of my grandmas relating terrifying experiences of hiding in the bushes during 'progroms', which they and their neighbors had endured in Poland and Russia, compelling them, as young adults, to make the heart rendering decision to pack up their children, leaving extended family and friends behind upon deciding to emigrate to the safe harbor of America, where, though poverty stricken, my mother and father were raised and educated to believe that this nation, which welcomed the tired and poor, served as a safe haven to any who had mustered the courage to seek asylum from heartless abuse.) This wasn’t shocking, because it was already described in those books. (Our prayerbooks)  On Yom Kippur in synagogue, these Jews read the stories of rabbis murdered by the Romans, including Rabbi Hanina ben Tradyon, who was wrapped in a Torah scroll set aflame. Before dying, he told his students, “The parchment is burning, but the letters are flying free!”

IN CELEBRATION OF CHECKS AND BALANCE RESTORED IN D.C.

The House has been won

Indicating all is not lost

Resuscitating my faith in

Hopeful attitudes not spent in vain

And with change for the better

Inching forward, I’m off to cap

The Excedrin bottle at least for today—

🌻Ohhmmm ...

HOPEFUL CONTINUES TO BE MY NATURAL STATE OF MIND

Today is Election Day, and I awoke with a headache, indicating layers of tension coiling tightly inside my mind being that my home state is red.  Now, if we flip to the other side of that coin we see trump’s brutish ravings stimulating more of my neighbors’ minds to flood with purple rage, matching mine, suggesting, I hope, that our nation’s dearth of positive leadership has drawn forth tints of blue from minds that had been colored red; (even so, it must be noted that, realistically, we’ll not know how much tampering is taking place at the polls).  And with that said, I’m off to down two extra strength Excedrin while hoping, as always, that change for the better will be ours, if not today then in two years time, because folk on both sides of the fence, tending toward feeling fed up with listening to trump’s hot winded, forked tongue, day after day, are bound by all that’s decent to lean away from voting for more of the same wicked insincerity when our next presidential election rolls around—

Hmmm...

UNSEALING YET ANOTHER SECRET POCKET WITHIN MY BRAIN TITLED: PITTSBURGH

Why have I not expressed the depths of my distress
In the aftermath of the worst Jewish massacre in the history of the U.S.A?
Why have I not expressed the depths of my distress
Whenever I read anything published about the national socialist
movement (no capitals by conscious choice), which aims at
Expanding its numbers so as to spread their hateful message of
'death to all who defy their white supremacist ideology'?
Why have I not expressed the depths of my distress
Concerning the fact that during the past year
An Anti-Defamation League report suggested that violence
Vandalism, threats, and harassment against the Jewish portion of
Our population has increased by 57 percent (paraphrasing
An article penned by columnist, Mona Charen)?
Why have I, who take pride in feeling Jewish, through and through
Not suffered more painfully in the aftermath of this horrific massacre
Than had been true each time those whose religious faith differs from
Mine were murdered in cold blood?  Is it because so many mass murders
Snuffing out the lives of innocent people, many of whom are children
Continue to follow one after another, so that my defense system feels
Need to protect my heart from reeling with grief so overwhelming as to
See my spirit plummet, as would have been true in the past?
Though my brain has not processed those answers—as of yet—
The fact that my power of intuition has naturally filtered these
Questions into the conscious portion of my mind, today, suggests that
Emotion, which I must be in denial of feeling is bound to surface or
Else these questions would not have emerged as though all on their own
And as one insight leads to another—I feel hopeful that before too long
My intuitive nature, which now hosts a storehouse of personal strengths
Will signal the subconscious portion of my brain as to my conscious
Sense of readiness to proactively confront layers of
Emotional distress, which have surely been repressed within
A secret pocket of my brain space, soon to be productively unsealed—
Hmmm ...