Story of a life

I just watched the movie/ documentary "A Prince Among Slaves". I am thinking a lot of things but the chief among them is the thought or idea of all the Muslims who came before me in this country to make it possible for me to breathe free and hold my head up high now as a person who wasn't born here and has no connection to this land. A foreigner. An immigrant. A person who left her roots and settled halfway across the world in a place where no one knew of her existence before they met her. Here, she has found love, hospitality, generosity, a place in hearts and minds, a place to breathe, spread her wings and broaden her horizons, mental and physical. None of this was my right. None of it a God-given right in the land where I was born. For my son, perhaps. But for me, no. For I was not born here. I did not come here of my own accord. And I did not adopt this land as mine of my complete unadulterated free will. Who I am, where I am from and to where and whom I belong i...