From her viewpoint on Liberty Island the goddess gazed towards the buildings of Ellis Island, evoking the poignant verses of the New Colossus. She whispered wordlessly, her lips moving silently, envisioning waves of immigrants huddling together, their eyes widening at the towering embrace of New York City, graciously welcoming them to America.
Her eyes traversed the skylines of Jersey City and Downtown Brooklyn, lingering over the mass of skyscrapers that defined Lower Manhattan. There, the One World Trade Center stood tall, a powerful symbol of rebirth and endurance. The city appeared grand and beautiful in the summer sun, unrivaled in its magnificence across the globe. Contemplating the gleaming buildings, she pondered the events unfolding within them, curious about the happenings in the pulsating heart of a nation.
Turning her gaze away from the city vistas, she directed her attention toward the Statue of Liberty proudly holding its torch aloft. It held a special place in her heart, admittedly due to her bias. Gods, by nature, reveled in adoration, and they particularly favored statues fashioned in their own likeness.
"Um, excuse me. Can we take a picture of you?" a woman asked, catching the attention of the goddess. She turned to face the woman-a middle-aged figure wearing round glasses. Beside her stood her husband, accompanied by their two children-a tall boy and a shorter girl.
"I would be delighted," replied the goddess. With grace, she stood still, a warm smile gracing her lips as each family member took their turn capturing moments with her through the lens.
She always enjoyed receiving attention from humans. The days of mortals sacrificing animals to her on the streets of Rome were long gone, and at this point in time, the goddess found solace in still being remembered. Unlike the other gods, who had become withered fragments of their once mighty selves when worshiped throughout every shore of the Mediterranean Sea, she remained as robust as ever. While not quite direct worship, millions of people adored her likeness on the Statue of Liberty every year, sustaining her with a new form of reverence.
October 28, 1886, marked a pivotal moment for the goddess. On that day, she felt a resurgence of power as the entire expanse of New York City observed the grand procession through the streets leading up to the ceremony for the statue's dedication. It was the day she was fully restored to her former strength. America became her home away from Rome.
She strolled toward the Statue of Liberty, and as she moved, people instinctively made way, gazing at her in awe. It wasn't a common occurrence for a goddess to walk among mortals, and even in this shrunken humanoid form she stood head and shoulders above everyone else. Her Roman robes further set her apart, the fabric billowing around her in the breeze. Some onlookers couldn't resist capturing the moment, pulling out their phones to snap pictures or record videos. Libertas welcomed the attention; if her image spread online, all the better for her.
Standing in front of the Statue of Liberty, the goddess halted her leisurely stroll where she could gaze up directly at its majestic face. A small crowd had gathered, their excitement evident as they pointed at her. Passersby, originally focused on the statue, turned their necks around in surprise as they walked by, casting curious glances at the unexpected presence of the goddess.
A man, leaning against the barrier that prevented people from walking into the water, spoke to the goddess. "Why's everyone checkin' you out?" he said.
"I am Libertas."
"Who's that?"
"I am the Roman goddess of liberty."
The man looked her up and down. "Roman? Nevah heard of it."
"You've never heard of Rome in Italy? You could say I'm Italian," the goddess replied.
"Oh, Italian. I'm Italian too," the man said. "My grandmother came from Sicily, and she cooks pizza and pasta. Ever been to Olive Garden?"
