Holy Father,

It is written on one of our greatest monuments –

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.*

While not your words, help me remember
These words of Your Spirit.
May we be your beacon of hope
when hope is hard to find.
May we be a helping hand
even as fists are raised in anger.
May we be the voice of your love
calling but not condemning.

For if we can be these things,
Through us, they may see You.



*This is the poem of Emma Lazarus that is on the Statue of Liberty