My Grandmother Paragraph

As a child I faced many difficulties that most children at my age would never face, but in order to understand my story you must first understand my background. I was born in Mexico City, Mexico at the age of four my mom made an incredibly important decision that wouldn’t only affect her, but also me as her son. My mom, Rosalia, made the decision to move out of her country that she had grown up in, and the country that I had begun my life in, in order to move to the United States so that her son could not only be with his mother, but also his father. At that age I didn’t think much of it, but today I sit here and respect the decision that my mom made at that time, and appreciate the amount of courage and strength that it took my mother to make

My grandmother was born in Guatemala into a struggling family of seven. In Guatemala, kids are often forced to leave school and start working to help provide for their family´s food and shelter. Similarly, my grandmother was not able to complete her education. Instead, she had to take care of her siblings, providing for their basic needs. As she grew up, she had three kids, including my father, and needed to find a way to give them a better life.

Honor the Grandmothers takes a look at four Dakota and Lakota women who offer to share the stories of their lives to the reader. It is a heartfelt look into their hardships through racism, to their ongoing battle to pass along the rich history of their ancestors while fighting poverty on the reservation.

It was July 25th, 2003 when the first Ciudadana was born, seven pounds three ounces at 3:28 pm. I was the joy of my parent’s, brother, tias, tios , and primos ( aunt’s, uncle’s, and couisins. I was the one that had a chance, first generation. My parents describe it as an emotional experience. I was my Father’s first child and my moms only girl. It was in that room where history was made for the Mora Hernandez Morales Martinez family. The hardest part is that none of my grandmothers were there to see me growing up, they were at “home”

I grew up in Dominican Republic, surrounded by women. I lived with my mother, grandmother and two sisters, making me the only male on my mother’s side of the family . I never separated from my grandma, Not only was she there to support me but she was also always eager for help me out with my homework and take care of me when I was sick and she always was calling me alegate... . My

My mother is Carolina Aguilar de Reyna, she was born in June 8th 1973 in the city of Mexicali, Baja California. She was the last daughter of her biological father. They four kids two girls and two boys. Then my grand married another man and had another girl and another boy making them six in total. When my mother was born, her biological father started to get sick. Shortly after my mother became two years old, her father died with a disease that was never determined. My mother to this day does not have great feel because she never got to know him. My mother told me that when she was little she liked hearing about her father and she said she would have liked to know him. When I was

Way before I ever existed, my parents met in Etzatlan Jalisco, Mexico in the month of October. A small town located near the capital of Mexico, Guadalajara. They dated for about two years before my parents decided to come to the United States. When they moved to the United States, they lived in Mount Airy, North Carolina with my current Godparents for about a month. After a month passed by my parents had moved to Virginia, where they stayed living in their own trailer throughout the pregnancy stages my mother was experiencing. Meanwhile, each day both my mother and father worked outside at a field harvesting peaches and tomatoes.

The simple bowl is deep cherry wood with a silver rimmed bottom that reflects my face upside down as a result of the polishing it has received over the years. The grain is worn, but still radiates the strength of the tree that it came from. As I run my finger over the inside of the cavernous salad bowl, it picks up some of the olive oil residue from the homemade Italian dressing that has seeped into every little grain of the bowl over years of use. Never subject to washings; we only wiped it out with a paper towel, to better flavor the crisp Boston bibb lettuce salads that it delivered at every family dinner. Just as the wood bowl, my grandmother was weathered and cracked by the trials of life. I could not be around her without leaving

It’s the time of year where all people are seen running around trying to gather last minute gifts and meals. Everyone does so in cheerful spirits, especially in the Cozly family. Christmas is Grandma Cozly’s favorite time of the year because everyone in the family always makes this family gathering. All the best foods are made and the most laughs are shared on Christmas since everyone is full of cheer and strong in their faith. However, some family members can become slightly assertive trying to get everyone out the door and to church on time.

You may think of a hero as a benevolent person with superhuman powers that can stop evil, and save the day. Well in my book a hero is someone who can make the world a better place. Someone who is brave, kind, and noble. Someone like my grandma Ona. She's always been there for me whether it's something simple like showing me how to drive her tractor or feed the ravenous, noisy chickens, to something important like always saying please and thank you, and working hard to do great things, but always staying humble. She's an excellent joker with the funniest stories and always knows what to say or do to make the situation humorous and memorable. A life without her would be like never being able to use the internet. You'd probably go insane. Right? Well that's how I'd feel without my grandma. I'd probably go crazy without her. That's why I'm choosing her to be my Michigan hero.

I grew up in a small village in Mexico where there were no health care professionals. My grandmother was one of the women in the village who would take care of the sick. The knowledge and wisdom she gained over the years was passed on to my mother. One day, I remember my mother asking me to accompany her. It was late at night, all of the dogs would bark at us as we walked by, and I did not know where we were going. We came to the house of a sick child. It was then, I realized that my mother had been asked to come and give the child medicine. The privilege of getting to help the child get well again gave me a sense of accomplishment. What we had done there guided me to strive for something that would give me that same sense of accomplishment. In 1996, my family and I got the opportunity to move to the United States. As a little girl, I did not understand how such a sad and difficult goodbye would bring me to a better future. A place that has brought me closer, than I had ever thought, to accomplishing my dream of becoming a pharmacist. I am grateful for of all of the opportunities that living and studying in the United States has brought.

I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great faith and character, she is my grandmother.

At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, criss­crossing over her thin, frail fingers.

My grandmother’s house has a very special place in my heart. As the family has gotten older and we have all had our own children we do not visit as we should. I visited with my grandmother many times when I was little. Her house always seemed to have something about it that set it apart from all the rest. As you walk into the back door of her house you would notice a long, narrow kitchen that led into the main living and dining room of her house. The smell of food home cooked food was quite evident. Grandmother cooked every day and always cooked big meals on holidays for the family.

Of course you always hear people talking about how great their grandmother or grandfather are, I too feel the same way about my grandmother. I see her as more than my grandmother, she’s a role mole, my best friend and also like a sister when I need her. She’s always been a loving and caring person. Not for only her friends and family, but also strangers. People she has never met a day in her life she would be willing to go give her last too. You don’t find to many people like her too often.