One day I will take the boat to Ellis Island. I will walk the pier and enter the station. I will see the stacks of abandoned steamer trunks, the rejection papers under glass, the black and white photos of the mustachioed men in their bowler hats, and the women with their parasols.
I will study their eyes, looking for hints of their hope, their fear, and their desperation. I will try to imagine them standing on that same floor, not browsing a museum, but looking for a new world.
I will climb the Separation Stairs and I will consider Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats. I will think about what it means to be a citizen of a Kingdom I must leave everything to enter. And then I will understand that I, too, am an immigrant.