A Tale of Two Masters

There are in the immigration debate today two challenging ideas: old and new.
The old ideas of open borders, amnesty, a pathway to citizenship, increased legal immigration, chain immigrations, and instant birthright citizenship but they will vanish because they are shortsighted,weak and exhausted.

There is in America an awakening that defies slumber. This awakening will conquer because the sun is its leader and the dawn is its army.

In the deserts of New Mexico, Arizona and California, which have been a haven for illegal aliens and drug smugglers, stand the loyal Americans calling on the many politicians and the few statesmen to rise and march toward the new frontiers with a renewed vision for America’s future. A vision that extends beyond the next election, a vision that takes the long view, and vision that sheds a long standing myopia.

There is on the horizon of America a new awakening; it is growing and expanding; it is reaching and engulfing all patriotic, intelligent souls; it is penetrating and gaining all the support of brave hearts.

America, today, has two masters. One is being bought with promises of political support, campaign contributions, and perks. The other one has been silent in his belief in and conformity to law and order, calmly awaiting the rule of law to be reasserted; he is a powerful giant who knows his own strength, confident in his existence and a believer in his destiny, his culture, his language, his history, and his ideals.
There are today, in America, two men: one of the past and one of the future. Which one are you? Come close, let me look at you and let me be assured by your appearance and your conduct if you are one of those coming into the light or going into the darkness of immigration’s unarmed invasion with deadly consequences for everything you hold dear.
Come and tell me who and what are you.
Are you a politician asking what your country can do for you or a zealous one asking what you can do for your country? Do you depend on welfare or the sweat of your own brow?
If you are the first in either case, then you are a parasite; if the second, then you are an oasis in a desert.
Are you an employer utilizing the needs of society for the necessities of life, for monopoly and exorbitant profit based on cheap illegal labor? Or are you a sincere, hard-working and diligent citizen facilitating the exchange between the producer and the consumer? Are you charging a reasonable profit as a middleman between supply and demand?
If you are the first, then you are a criminal whether you live in a five-bedroom, four-bath mansion or a prison. If you are the second, then you are a charitable man whether you are thanked or denounced by people.
Are you a religious leader, weaving for your body a gown out of the ignorance of the people, fashioning a crown out of the simplicity of their hearts and pretending to hate the devil merely to live upon his income? Do you depend on ancient, outmoded religious doctrines to maintain your position as the expense of misery and poverty in the world?
Or are you a devout and a pious man who sees in the law-abiding individual the foundation for a strong and unified nation?
If you are the first, then you are a heretic, a disbeliever in God even if you fast by day and pray by night. If you are the second, then you are a violet in the garden of truth even though its fragrance is lost upon the nostrils of humanity or whether its aroma rises into that rare air where the fragrance of flowers is preserved.
Are you a newspaperman who sells his ideas and principles in the slave market, who lives on the misery of people like a buzzard which descends only upon a decaying carcass?
Or are you a teacher on the platform of history gathering experience from life and presenting it to the people as sermons you have learned? If you are the first, then you are a sore and an ulcer. If you are the second, then you are a balsam and a medicine.
Are you a governor who denigrates himself before those who appoint him and denigrates those whom he is to govern, who never raises a hand unless it is to reach into pockets and who does not take a step unless it is for greed?

Or are you a faithful servant who serves only the welfare of the citizens of this great nation?
If you are the first, then you are as a tare in the threshing floor of the nations; and if the second, then you are a blessing upon its granaries.
Are you a husband who allows for himself what he disallows for his wife, living in abandonment with the key of her prison in his boots, gorging himself with his favorite food while she sits, by herself, before an empty dish?
Or are you a companion, taking no action except hand in hand, nor doing anything unless she gives her thoughts and opinions, and sharing with her your happiness and success?
If you are the first, then you are a remnant of a tribe which, still dressing in the skins of animals, vanished long before leaving the caves; and if you are the second, then you are a leader in a nation moving in the dawn toward the light of wisdom.
Are you a searching writer full of self-admiration, keeping his head in the valley of a dusty past, where the ages discarded the remnant of its clothes and useless ideas?
Or are you a clear thinker examining what is good and useful for America and spending your life in building what is useful and destroying what is harmful?
If you are the first, then you are feeble and stupid, and if you are the second, then you are bread for the hungry and water for the thirsty.
Are you a poet, who plays the tambourine at the doors of emirs, or the one who throws the flowers during weddings and who walks in processions with a sponge full of warm water in his mouth, a sponge to be pressed by his tongue and lips as soon as he reaches the cemetery?
Or have you a gift which God has placed in your hands on which to play heavenly melodies which draw our hearts toward the beautiful in life?
If you are the first, then you are a juggler who evokes in our soul that which is contrary to what you intend.
If you are the second, then you are love in our hearts and a vision in our minds.
In the America there are two processions: One procession is of naïve students and young men and women, running as if on winged feet, and jubilant as with musical strings in their throats, as if they had already earned a paycheck or had to meet a payroll.
The other is a procession of venerable people of wisdom who remember the glory days of the nation, they are out of breath because their path is uphill and their way has many obstacles placed there by -- illegal aliens, bleeding heart neolibs, special interest groups, and their fellow travelers.
Which are you and in which procession do you move?
Ask yourself and meditate in the still of the night; find if you are full of youthful exuberance but lacking in real world experience and guilty of shallow thinking guided by doctrinaire professors.
Or are you willing to shoulder any burden, fight any battle, and make any sacrifice necessary to preserve the last great hope of mankind?
I tell you that the children of today are walking in the funeral of the era that they created for themselves. They are pulling a rotted rope that might break soon and cause them to drop into a forgotten abyss. I say that they are living in homes with weak foundations; as the storm blows—and it is about to blow—their homes will fall upon their heads and thus become their tombs. I say that all their thoughts, their sayings, their quarrels, their compositions, their books and all their work are nothing but chains dragging them because they are too weak to pull the load.
But the children of tomorrow are the ones called by life, and the follow it with steady steps and heads high, they are the dawn of new frontiers, no smoke will veil their eyes and no jingle of chains will drown out their voices. They are few in number, but the difference is as between a grain of wheat and a stack of hay. No one knows them but they know each other. They are like the summits, which can see or hear each other—not like caves, which cannot hear or see. They are the seed dropped by the hand of God in the field, breaking through its pod and waving its sapling leaves before the face of the sun. It shall grow into a mighty tree, its root in the heart of America and its branches high in the sky.

Adapted from Khalil Gibran