To be Mother of Exiles once again

When children were younger, I would go through phases of having them memorize poetry. I know that I had several sets of children learn Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley and The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus. I think everyone should be familiar with these poems, one reminds us that human achievement and perceived greatness is fleeting, the other reminds us of how to really be great. 

In case you don't know The New Colossus or haven't read it in a while, here it is:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

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!”

I pray that our country will find its way again; the country that opens its arms to people from a wide swathe of places and experiences. This has not been a holiday to celebrate this year. We gathered with family, but we mourned what our country has become.