Statue of Liberty

When I think about immigration, my mind goes to the whistle of the vessels, the smell of freedom and to the emotion that the Statue of Liberty bestowed on those who saw it for the first time.

I’m too young to know what really happened many years ago, and many of the testimonies of my ancestors, who came to the U.S. before me, have been lost over the years. The only person I know who had some recollection is my grandmother.

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