An American Dream

Last weekend, I took some time to read a biography of my grandfather, Jerome Epstein. 

I never had the opportunity to meet him.  I am named for him.

My mom had the foresight to put together a book about his life.

He left his hometown in Lithuania at the age of 17 for the US and settled in San Antonio, Texas of all places.

He saw his parents only one more time the rest of his life.

I thought about the courage he must have had to embark on that journey and the sacrifice he was making. Not only for himself and his desire for a better life, but for the descendants he would never meet. Each of them would be impacted by his decision.

The next day, I went to the simchat bat (naming ceremony) for my newest niece, Jerome's great-granddaughter and looked around the room.

It was a beautiful room in a beautiful synagogue where people were free to practice their religion without fear of persecution from the government.  The reception was fantastic, with plenty of food and beverages. 

It was a well-educated group with varying degrees of affluence, but no financial poverty.

His descendants and their families had achieved the American Dream that he had when he left the Old World for the New.

I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for what he had done for all of us.

And I also felt tremendous gratitude to America.

There aren't too many places where the type of transformation that my family has experienced over the past 100 years would be possible.