Some bloggers don’t need introductions and some reblogs don’t need an explanation. This is one of them. Thank you Patricia~!

The English Professor at Large

This Thanksgiving, I want to express my gratitude for my country, the United States of America, a land of immigrants. We are descendants of those who came to these shores from somewhere else in the world. I am thankful for the Statue of Liberty, a gift from France,that proudly stands in our New York harbor, greeting migrants with the welcoming words:

“Give me your tired, your poor. Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, these. the homeless, the tempest-tossed, to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

Lest we forget, my prayer is that we shall always be blessed by blessing others.

Happy Thanksgiving, fellow pilgrims!

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My Grandmother was a Refugee


My Grandmother, the wonderful, wise woman who raised me, was a refugee. She left her home town right at the end of WWI in 1918, when she was 17 years old.

Both of her parents had been killed during the war and there was no place to call home anymore. She left town with her sister Emma, who was just 2 years older. Continue reading

Don’t touch me~!


“Hate” can be found on every corner these days, often accompanied by fear; it seems these two go hand in hand. Fear of the unknown, hate toward a stranger. “He can’t have what is mine”, like we all would be still sitting in a big sandbox building sand castles.  “Don’t touch me,”  “Don’t invade my space.” We do sound like children, what are we scared off? Continue reading