A Family of Immigrants
When I became a Believer (Christian), I was taught that the prophecy from Ezekiel was coming true in our day. So, I packed up my bags and made Aliyah (coming UP to Jerusalem or Israel as a returning Jew.)
To come to Israel, I had to prove I was Jewish. How does a secular Jew in the US do that? Well, you have to show birth certificates and marriage certificates and pictures of the traditional above-ground graves of Jewish cemeteries, linking you to your past relatives.
Until then, the furthest back I knew about in my family was my great-grandmother, who I remember I couldn't communicate with. After preparing all the certificates, I understood why. My Grandmother was born in Kiev, making her mother an immigrant who probably spoke only Russian or Yiddish. My Grandfather came from Germany, his parents were immigrants as well.
I came to Israel, married, had children and then my parents followed afterwards. Now they are also immigrants. They came to Israel when they were already retired and my father was suffering from Alzheimer's. I help them, because they can't learn the language or the culture.
So, my great-grandparents were immigrants. My parents are immigrants and I am an immigrant.
But none of these migrations considered any other person or people. We just came. Isn't that what immigrants do? When people came to the US, they didn't consider the Native Americans.
Now, my father is currently recuperating from a fall and surgery. My father is an old man and doesn't speak the local language, nor does he know the local customs. His favorite doctor is a Muslim woman from the north. She speaks Hebrew, English and Arabic and is exceedingly kind and respectful with him. She knows how to help him and gives him tasks to accomplish that not only heal his body, but also his mind and soul. She gives him honor and dignity. How does she continue to serve my father, who came here to settle on land she and her family farmed and cultivated and picnic'ed on....
I, my family, migrated to a Land far from our birthplace - only to be taught where we came from and how to treat people with grace.
This lovely woman - a Muslim - is the Savior to my father. I wonder if she knows it.