Yesterday we left C.W. at our farm to watch over things while the woman he calls “Mrs. Big Dope” and I enjoyed one of the happiest days of our lives. He later gave me permission, albeit somewhat grudgingly, (“They want to read about me, not you.”) to devote a day to the occasion. He’ll be back tomorrow if the Falloonian Elders release him. (Don’t ask).For right now, here goes.
|After years of struggle, all it took was a raising of the hand.|
Though hardly what you would call a religious couple, we base our happiness, my wife and I, partly on the Biblical injunction: “You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 22:21 (NRSV) We believe that we are on the proper side of both history and righteousness.
We finished the day with a marvelous meal at his family’s house and a few shots of Tequila to celebrate. As they say down in South Arkansas, “Hit don’t git no better’n that.”
Anyway, it was a glorious experience to watch those folks raise their hands and see the smiles on their faces and those of their families and friends. And while we know that hatred is currently fashionable among certain segments of our population and our views may be alien to some, let us just add that we wouldn’t trade those 50 people for 1,000 Donald Trumps.
|Our proud new citizen|
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