They crossed the border twenty years ago. Now they have new friendships, a new house, and a new life. The deportation orders came last Saturday. 

Once upon a grand summer's day,
I found the old memoir of a sweet girl whose fingers could play,
The saddest of songs, and the sweetest of tunes,
Her voice traveling along her home's many rooms,
The sound often captivating the still small artifacts that surrounded that parlor,
Penetrating the still silent air.

My dear diary, I have the most lovely ideas about what to talk with you about today,

Should I tell you about how my piano's melody ring...