As I interact with precious sojourners learning their way in southern America, I am reminded of my childhood in South Miami.  My friends, from 2nd grade on, were most often 2nd generation Cuban.  Their parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles fled from Cuba to find freedom in America.  I enjoy rich childhood memories of visiting in their homes, listening to their fluid Spanish with dramatic tones and gestures and I delighted in their delicious native foods.