When communism took over in Cuba, my mother was a young teacher. One day, government officials came into her classroom and told the children to close their eyes, hold out their hands, and pray to God for a toy. When they opened their eyes, their hands were empty. “You see,” the officials said. “God doesn’t provide.”

Then they told the children to close their eyes again and pray to Fidel Castro. This time, when they opened their hands, there were toys. “You see,” the officials said. “Fidel Castro is the one who gives you what you want.”

That day, she knew she needed to leave Cuba. She applied for a visa, and 10 days after she received it, she left for the United States — leaving behind her job, home and family.

It has been 60 years since. She has never gone back. Her sister, barely 20 when she left, is in her 80s now — my mother is in her 90s. Neither has forgotten the other’s birthday. Neither expects to see the other again.

My father, too, fled communism to come to the United States.…