My youngest 11-year-old grandson, Bryson, was fit to be tied. He wanted to give his birthday present to me before anyone could give theirs. He was so excited as I opened the special box, padded so nicely with the treasure inside. It was this beautiful Statue of Liberty that he just had to have an engraved plaque added to it. Bryson and his dad went to see Lady Liberty a couple of weeks ago on their annual Dad/Son trip. It really is a precious treasure, now prominent on my fireplace mantle.
It brought back sweet memories of his Papa and me riding the ferry to Ellis Island to see her majesty in breathtaking reality -- she who offered freedom, hope and a new beginning to so many weary travelers from foreign lands years ago. Ellis Island is where the vast majority of immigrants stopped before being allowed into the U.S. I am reminded of Emma Lazarus' quote that is on the statue: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”
This post isn’t for debating the issue about the illegal immigrants' issue, but to share my own immigration story. In 1986, our family desired to move to Canada. My husband was a natural born Canadian citizen and a legal immigrant to the U.S. For us to move there, it meant that our children and I had to go through a rigorous "legal" process to obtain residency there. We had to complete stacks of documentation, have medical exams, attend interviews and go through a lengthy waiting period before getting to accompany my husband to his "home and native land".
Eventually, we were approved, and so was my mother who moved there with us. She received a Canadian pension as well as her U.S. social security and was blessed with no-cost medical treatments. I was blessed to be employed by the University of Manitoba and to this day, I still receive my Canadian pension. Our children became viable working people there. Our son, Ryan Wuerch became a top-selling realtor at the age of 19. Our daughter, Staci Wallace was Miss Manitoba, competed in the Miss Canada pageant and won the talent portion. She ran a modeling agency for malls and she represented Canada as a soloist in the 1986 Winter Olympics. We were so blessed.
Canada opened its doors to our children and me. We were aliens in a foreign land but were respected and given the rights of other Canadians, as we proved our value in the opportunities that Canada provided to us.
A couple of years ago, I attended a Tulsa Prayer Service for immigrants. Over 500 Latinos were being encouraged in their desires for immigration to the U.S. A grateful Spanish Pastor give his own story as a landed immigrant to the U.S. My heart was touched to see a room filled with people who sincerely desired the freedoms and the opportunities to live here. This pastor said “I know that many of you in this room are waiting for your permit. I know that you are here to work and not here for welfare or a hand-out. Most of you have valuable skills that can benefit this country. You are paying taxes every time you buy a hamburger and a pair of socks here. He urged them to pray for God's help, to save money, educate and prepare themselves for acceptance.
May God bless and answer the prayers of honest people who sincerely desire a safe place to raise their families, where they can do an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay and a country that welcomes them as viable, contributing citizens.
And God bless all of us who realize that this world is not our final home. We are temporarily here on this earth as strangers and aliens in a foreign land. But, one day, we'll join together and in thunderous applause and cheers of joy and celebration, we'll see the banners and hear those beautiful words “Welcome Home!”
