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. |
Tres Amigos |
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 |
See also: www.wattensawpress .com
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