Perspective Of ARussian Immigrant (No.4)

I look at the people who support the transformation of America in disbelief: They are destroying the very land that gave them so much opportunity.

Groomed, well-fed and educated, comfortably living in a prosperous society, they need a mission to give meaning to their lives. These "fighters for the less-fortunate among us" glaze over the fact that hundreds of millions of people from around the world desperately try to come to this country for all it offers, regardless of their economic status, race, class, or gender.

Immigrants rightly see this country as the best place to obtain a decent life for themselves and their families.

When I immigrated to America in 1980, I was overwhelmed with the amount of food and goods available at any store, at the numerous charitable organizations helping the needy, and even the government programs that helped people to obtain necessary skills to find a job.

Later, I realized that the country was in the midst of a deep recession. Compared to where I came from, it seemed like the pinnacle of prosperity.

As a secular Soviet Jew, my first Christmas in America was amazing. The proud display of religious symbols was a celebration not only of the holiday, but of a population free to express their beliefs without fear of oppression.

Marvelous! Thanks for posting this.

I’ve spoken with Svetlana ... she’s being profiled in our upcoming book “Pursuing Liberty,” and she is an amazing woman.

Fun fact: I posted the link to her second op-ed, and tagged Glenn Beck to it ... he retweeted it that evening, which was a thrill. He doesn’t retweet very much.

She knows what’s what.

BUMP!

I remember, once in the 1980’s, when I was with the local newspaper, a group of Russians came to visit our town.

There were 3 men and 3 women of different professions. It was easy to see who was a ‘regular’ Russian and who was their KGB ‘companion.’

One of the places they wanted to see was the super market. It was mid-afternoon. As they walked down the long rows meat cases, one asked: “Do not people here like meat?”

I glanced at the cases brimming with meat and, puzzled, asked: “Why do you ask?”

“Well, these cases are still full and it’s late in the day.”

“Oh,” I explained, just as a employee wheeled out a full cart with stacks of more meat, “they are refilled all day.”

I astounded her. In Russia, the cases would have been empty by early morning and not refilled.

I struck up a friendship with one gal, an economist, and one day, we were able to shuck off her ‘watcher’ and we had a jolly good time as I took her to see anything she wanted, instead of sticking to the pre-arranged list.

She was amazed that we could go into one store and find things, like a pair of jeans, for $30 and then go across town to another store and fine the same pair on sale for $7.00 In Russia, price was set by gov’t and each store would have had the same price.(Jeans were all but impossible to find at any price in Russia then. She bought 2 pair and was estactic.)

She was from the Ukrain. I corresponed briefly and then got busy andlost contact. I’ve always regretted that as so much happened over there after that.

(Her name was also Svetlana)

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