Rodica

About 20 years ago, when I was newly out of college, I lived for a short time with a roommate named Rodica, who had recently come to the United States from Romania. She was living out her dream, coming to the “land of the free,” something she had desperately wanted to do her entire life.

I was young and had no concept of a life so different from mine. She was bitter and hardened. She told me stories of standing in line all day long for a piece of bread, and when she finally got to the front of the line, they had run out.

Our washer and dryer were a novelty to her. I had to get after her several times for washing one garment at a time. She had no concept of how to match clothing. Apparently she had always worn what she could find, with no concern for whether or not it matched.

She didn’t know how to drive a car. It was nothing to her to walk several miles to the grocery store on a hot day. She had never tasted ice cream. It was such a wonderful thing that she didn’t mind that it was basically “soup” by the time she got back from her walk to the grocery store.

I could go on about this unique experience I had. But my point is this: she grew up in a Communist country. She had never known the freedoms or the “luxuries” we in America basically consider everyday essentials. She had never gotten to choose the job she wanted, the food she would eat (if she got to eat at all) or the clothes she would wear. Communism is an ugly thing.

That's all I'm going to say. Except "don't ignore what's going on in our country right now." Pay attention to our leaders and their agendas. And their "czars." And pray. Every day. For God's mercy on us.