My father came from a fleck of a town

That was sometimes in Russia

And sometimes in Poland.

He spent his youth

shivering over the Talmud,

Scarcely noticing

he was hungry and cold,

Except to call it God’s will.

Can you imagine?

Can you imagine how thrilled he was

To learn in America

That he had the right

to pursue happiness?

—Felicia Nimue Ackerman