very favorite American holiday was Thanksgiving. She had much to be thankful
for. Her first Thanksgiving in her new country was a glorious one. It was not
the feast that she would in later years savor. It was the exhilarating feeling
of freedom that permeated her entire being. The freedom to walk in the free
American air without being called names; the freedom to sit on park benches
which did not state “Jews forbidden to sit here”; the freedom to speak
without being censored; the freedom to be accepted as being human and not being
jeered; the freedom to not hear: “throw them out the whole Jewish gang, throw
them out of our fatherland, throw them out to where all the other Jews are
that’s where they belong,” or, “Jews off to Madagascar,” or
“die Jew.” She no longer had to look behind her to see who was there to hurt
or menace her. She was a child, a person, someone who deserved to live!
Weirton there were festivities in the Temple auditorium. The evening ended with
a song: GOD BLESS AMERICA. Droozy joined in and with her heart overflowing with
thanks and full voice joined in with the crowd in blessing her beautiful new
Droozy never forgot that first Thanksgiving. She never forgot to celebrate even as she got older. That holiday has more meaning to her than the crisp brown turkey, or the tangy taste of the bright red cranberry sauce, or the crisp green vegetables steaming on the festive table laden with all good things to eat. It means the right to work, the right to live, the right to be. It means her survival, that of her family and that of generations to come!