My immigration story isn’t really my own. It belongs to my husband and my son, but I figure that makes it mine, too.
Both my husband’s parents were Holocaust survivors. My father-in-law lost his parents and nearly all his relations in the fires of Auschwitz. You won’t ever meet anyone named Sonnenmark. My husband and my son are the last ones.
“These people should wait their turn,” an anti-immigrant protestor told us recently. “My mother had to wait ten years to get here.” “If my mother had waited ten years, she would have died,” my husband replied.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this exchange—reminded, once again, of the miracle that saved my in-laws, my husband, and my beautiful son. I don’t know the answers to all the immigration issues facing our country, but I know enough to be grateful daily to the people who didn’t wait, but survived.
This Mother's Day and Father's Day help low-income immigrants access life-changing legal services through Justice for Our Neighbors' national network of legal clinics.
To learn more about National Justice for Our Neighbors, check out this video.