I lay in the warmth of the thick wool blankets I’m cocooned between, hoping to prolong the moment. If I stay put, I can maintain the shield of body heat I’ve created during the night. I decide to take a peak outside, and let whatever is waiting for me determine my next move.
First came the snow, then the rain, and more snow mixed with hail for good measure. But when the clouds parted to reveal endless snowcapped mountain ranges gleaming in the fresh sunbeams, I forgave the weather for being fickle.
Imagine a 5’2” twenty something peeking over the steering wheel of a white cargo van, winding through Navajo Nation with distinct red hues gleaming off pillar shaped rock formations in the distance, 80’s pop blaring through the speakers, and a miniature sheep peeking out the passenger window.
In 1979, a middle-aged woman, her husband, and two children boarded a plane departing Kiev to escape a communist regime in the Soviet Union as Jewish refugees. Uncertainty filled their minds as they made their way to a more accepting life in the United States as Jews.