Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor

The Statue of Liberty has an eloquent poem inscribed on it that reads,

“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!”

Because immigrant ships passed under the statue’s torch as they headed toward Ellis Island, Miss Liberty famously became the greeter of incoming immigrants.

The statue has represented the welcoming arms of the United States to those of all foreign lands, all nationalities, races, and religions.  The United States has prided itself on offering these people an opportunity for a fresh start.  A new life free from oppression and poverty.

In turn immigrants have been the backbone of this country in many
ways, and have assimilated while honoring and celebrating their individual cultures.  They have contributed economically, socially and culturally to the unique tapestry of this nation.

Many of them have been much more in appreciation of the freedoms and opportunities here, freedoms that many of the natural born citizens may take for granted.

But this isn’t just a story about American history and how it has been shaped.  It’s a story about our own ascension process.

If you can imagine the Statue of Liberty being our Higher self, our I AM.  Our Soul.  She is holding a torch, a light that is bright.  A light that can’t be extinguished.  She is lighting the way for us, as the human.  She is not imposing herself upon us, but simply offering a beacon, guiding us to a new home, and a fresh start.

Now, imagine that you are not just a single human being from another nation or land, but you are all of the people, every single immigrant that is coming to this new land.  And for our example, we will say it’s America.

You are many different facets of yourself.  With a multitude of backgrounds and experiences.  Some difficult histories.  Some are just overwhelmed and broken.  They fled oppression and still carry fear.  They need a resting place.  A safe harbor where they can replenish themselves and start anew.

You are weary, but hopeful.

You know you can’t turn back, because you have gone through hell to get this far.   You can see the promised land just over the horizon, but It is bitter sweet, because you are also leaving behind your history, your homeland, and your family of origin.

But you know that you are doing this not just to help yourself, but that In doing so, you are helping your family back home.

You wonder if you will be able to depend upon this new land you find yourself in.  Will you be able to adjust to the strange customs, language and lifestyle?  You are both scared and excited.

America is your eternal self, and she is waiting for you, welcoming you, and wants you to feel at home.  Regardless of where you have been, what language you speak, what you have done in your last lifetime.

You don’t have to change who you are.  She loves you unconditionally.  She and you and all your facets and aspects will gradually and lovingly integrate with one another to create a magnificent and strong and healthy and prosperous relationship.

Your uniqueness as the human will not be lost, but will just enrich the relationship with the lady with the bright light.  A light that burns eternally.

And you in turn, will be that light for the newcomers who follow.

© Copyright 2018 Maria Chambers, all rights reserved. P!ease feel free to share this content within others but maintain the article’s integrity by copying it unaltered and by including the author and source website link: Maria Chambers,


7 thoughts on “Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor

    1. Yes, absolutely, Adavai. Just like the immigrants coming to better shores, we can feel something better on the horizon, even though we can’t quite define it. The fatigue and boredom are troubling, but temporary.

      What drove the immigrants forward was being unable to any longer accept their old reality. And for us who are awakening, we were so done with our old, grey existence in 3D. We said, whatever it takes, we want our freedom. 💕

  1. Barbara

    Lovely metaphor, Maria, thank you… and your song, “Promised Land” is much needed today. I’m exhausted, sad, nerves are shot, and confused, yet Miss Liberty never seems to tire and I needed that assurance, thank you.

    Interestingly, well, at least it was to me, I had a dream last night about parking… referring to your last post. I’m in an underground parking lot and a grey car comes down the ramp. I watch as this car goes for a parking spot that is obviously… to any 3D driver… impossible to maneuver into. Darned if that grey car didn’t take the shape of the space of the parking spot and move easily right into it with room to spare. My kind of Promised Land Parking! Love to you and all here, B.

    1. Barbara, glad you enjoyed the post and the song. Shelter, support, love and a safe and quiet space are all necessary during these times.

      Fascinating dream. Shape shifting cars, what a concept. Your avatar abilities are just under the surface.

  2. Elila

    Maria I loved this –the post and the song gave me goosebumps and had me tearing up a bit. Such a great and hopeful reminder and boost for us weary travelers …… Thank you💙

    And Barbara I’m sending you an extra warm hug today 😊💞

  3. Annette

    Oh how inspiring this was at 7am this morning!! I second what Elila said……breath! ❤️
    Thank you beaYOUtiful SOUL! ✨💖💫

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