Dear President-Elect Trump:
If you close your eyes and focus deep within, you can see her. You can see her stern determination when she was younger. You can see her shuffling her feet to empty the laundromat trash when she was older. You can feel the wrinkled, trembling hands that once were firm and strong. You can smell the perfume that she always wore. You can see her because you knew her. You knew her well.
She wiped your mouth after dinner, reminded you not to leave your baseball glove outside. She buttoned your coat to keep out the New York cold. She scolded you when you got out of line. She was the scrappy German immigrant. A widowed woman with three children, she built a business while balancing a baby on her hip.
I’m confident you can see her–Elizabeth Christ Trump to most, Grandma Trump to you.
She and her business weathered the American depression; She raised three successful children on her own. One of them—your dad—was awed by her business ability. So she started a business with him and for him when he was just a boy: Elizabeth Trump & Son. In time, he took it over. But she was there, always there–not only in the background but very much in the foreground. She collected the coins from Trump Laundromats well after you changed the name from Elizabeth Trump & Son to The Trump Organization. She did it well into her seventies.
Now, you’re in your seventies. You don’t empty coins from washing machines. You’re President-Elect of the United States. I’m sure she’s proud. If people in heaven have buttons, I’m sure hers’ are bursting. Most of the world thinks you made it to the White House on your own ability and prowess.
But she knows the truth. You know the truth. You got there standing on her shoulders. You would not be there, without her. Those of us who are most fortunate have someone who helped us get a start, make connections, believed in us. Some people need this more than others, but once someone believes in them, they will succeed as well.
Grandma Trump doesn’t want much: Just that you remember the family’s humble immigrant beginnings, that you recognize and adhere to the lessons she taught you in Queens all those years ago. That being in charge means that lots of people depend on you to show up each day to serve them. That as the leader, you have to do what is required. Sometimes that means being humble enough to admit fault. Sometimes it means saying you’re sorry. Sometimes it means reaching out. And sometimes, it means that you take out the trash and empty the coin box so that things keep moving.
Sincerely,
David O. Leavitt
