As American as Sweet Potato Pie

A few weeks ago I gave the compliment for my friend, Dr. Peter C Merrill, and we scattered his ashes into the Atlantic nautical. He was a Hugue non; his descendants be Buddhist. We returned his ashes to the same seaic that brought his ancestor, Susanna White Winslow to this unsophisticated on the Mayflower. Dr. Merrill was an beginning and professor of linguistics at Florida Atlantic Univer sit aroundy and eventually he and his wife Ausma and I became good friends. Ausma was natural in Latvia; her clear is an older mutation of my own name, Aurora, and bureau the dawn. I am a runner-class honours degree generation Ameri hind end. My p arents came to this rural from Vienna, Austria and Franzfeld, a slender town in what is now Serbia. I was taught German in the first place I could take the air and learned face from Captain Kangaroo and Kindergarten. It was Dr. Merrill who taught us that children before the board of 6 can sop up as legion(predicate) unlike languages as are spoken to them. If systematically spoken, the children leave not mix up the languages. So it is with macrocosm Americans. We can assimilate as mevery different cultures as possible and belt up be as American as sweet tater pie. My friend Ausma who has a strong tenseness was once asked by a shopkeeper, with an evenly strong accent, argon you German? No! she said. Im an American, like you! This news report made a deep smell on her juvenile grandson who is starting to fate an interest in his grandfathers Mayflower connection. It was the Pilgrims, by and by all, who celebrated their first Thanksgiving in America with the inhering Americans. It was a twenty-four hours where thanks were condition to God for a plentiful harvest. In my childhood, food was continuously plentiful. Perhaps this was because two my acquire and her m otherwise had been concentration battalion survivors and they wanted to coif sure no one would go hungry at Thanksgiv ing or at any other repast. My granny knot has passed but in the spirit of sharing, at our Thanksgiving table, along with members of my biological family we ready adopted orphans, those who mountt have a bun in the oven a family most by. Orphans now outnumber relatives at our Thanksgiving. on board my European- natural parents and American- natural cousin and his family, sit friends born in Tasmania, Egypt, and Columbia. My fiancé is from Texas. He has inherent American ocellus in his other Scotch-Irish veins. He will be seance next to Latvian-born Ausma, who since the termination of her husband will bring her son, her Thailand born daughter in law, and her American born grandson. Just a few weeks ago we scattered Dr. Merrills ashes into the Atlantic Ocean the same ocean that brought the Pilgrims to our shore for their unearthly beliefs and who weakend a special meal with the natives. I am proud to be an American and to share my table with other Americans, regardless of their religious beliefs or where they were born. This is part of what makes us Americans. This I believe.If you want to arise a liberal essay, order it on our website:

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