From religious persecution to American freedom

By Jessica Levtsenyuk I remember being 8 years old and visiting my paternal grandparents at their Sacramento, California, home, with the  walls covered with symbols of their Christian faith and their Bibles well kept. If the decor wasn’t a dead giveaway that religion was important, the light in my grandmother’s eyes when she thanked God for everything she had did the trick. My young self didn’t understand the intensity of their faith at the time, but to them it was a symbol of freedom, love and home. In 1989 my grandparents left their home in Radyvyliv, Ukraine, on a...

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