Personal Narrative Essay-When I Moving To Canada

I remember my first day in Canada like it was yesterday. The day I thought my dad had been hit by a car and my mom almost having a heart attack. It all started when we first got to the hotel, in Ontario, Mississauga. My father thought it would be a great idea to explore the area and buy some groceries. My mom, two brothers and I were exhausted due to a fourteen-hour flight from Dubai to Toronto so we decided to stay and take a nap. I woke up at 7 pm to silence. I thought my dad had come back and took a nap, but when I went to wake up parents, it was only my mother. At that point, I started freaking out, it’s been 4 hours since my father left. I woke up my mother and told her my dad hadn’t come back yet. My mother tried to call my father, but his phone was off. She then went to the security of the building and talked to him. The security guard asked my mother

Although I am Canadian and still carry Canadian traits, adopting new traits from being in a different environment has helped me grow and become a better individual. Someone who doesn't move will forever lack certain traits because you are not exposed to different environments. Being from a different country, I have different thoughts on an American than Americans, but after being in America my perspective has altered. Being able to adapt to situations and environments, just as the frontiers had, has lead me to take more pride in my individual self. Going trough life significant life experiences has made me appreciate values of Americans like freedom and justice. The western mythology has helped shape this nation and is responsible for many

My mom Andrea Svank moved from Hungary to Canada in 1998. My mom was born July 19th, 1970 she was born in Nyíregyháza, Hungary. She got the idea to move to Canada because her husband Joszef Svank (my dad) went to Canada to visit his aunt and uncle for 8 months before they met. When they met he always talked about how nice Canada is and that one day when there married he wants to move to Canada.

In 1996 Angelina was only thirty years old when she first arrived in America. Angelina left behind her 7 other siblings and parents, to start a new life in this unknown country. Before coming to America she lived in a tiny town in Mexico, her life in Mexico was much nicer than her life in America from what she described. Angelina mentioned that one of her biggest passions is cooking, “My sisters and I had our own restaurant, we sold food during the day, and during the night I would go out with friends and buy ice cream or delicious churros.” For Angelina one of the biggest benefits of living in Mexico was being close to her family members, “the whole family would go out on field trips every now and then, my favorite were trips to the beach,

It’s been almost five years since my family has moved to Canada, and I have never felt left out before. I never thought I ever would, but ever since I started attending school in Canada I had the fear that no one would like me.

My ancestors first came to Canada around 1845-1852. The names of the first people in my family to come to canada was Robert Young and Anna Young. They came to Canada from Ireland.

As a child to an immigrant, I know how challenging it was for my parents to arrive to Canada, because of this I would like to help others who are immigrants. About a week ago, when I passed by your North York East location, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to work there. After I checked your online posting. However I am a student and cannot work in school hours, but I am flexible with my hours outside of school, I have read your posting and I am able to work in those hours. I am available to work 20 hours a week and that is weekends too. I am a hard worker and I am able to collaborate with your dedicated team to achieve success. I believe I would make a good member in your already successful association.

Believe it or not, I am Canadian. I do not follow ordinary Canadian stereotypes like eating maples syrup for every meal or watching hockey every second of everyday. I do not live in an igloo and I do not have an accent, eh. Although I do not abide by any of these stereotypes, I do however love being Canadian. Canada has so many wonderful things to offer and I am grateful for living in this country. Being Canadian means having freedom, obtaining a sense of safety and treating all citizens equally.

It was almost dark, my uncle called the cops to report a missing person statement. The cops were so mean. They legit told my uncle that they would not go out and search for him until he goes missing for 10 days. We had no other options but wait and pray. It was dead quiet, silence filled the room. My uncle heard a knock on the door. We all thought it was my dad. My mom and uncle rushed to the door to see if it was him. When my uncle opens the door, a stranger was standing there. He looked worried and like didn't know how to start talking or introduce himself. My uncle asked what he wanted and the man was like “ Is this Bassam’s brother?”. Bassam was my

When I first moved to Canada, I became a victim of this threat known as bullying. In grade 4, in 2008, I had first come to Canada, from India. I didn’t know how to speak English, and so, people used this as an excuse to pick on me. One kid whole bullied me a lot was Ravi. He used to make fun of me because I couldn’t talk to others and told other that I was anti-social. Also, he would take any good lunch I had, he would make fun of me when playing games, and even spread false rumours. I first kept my bullying problems hidden from my parents, but gradually, as things got worse, I told them. They talked to our teacher, Mr. Douglas. Mr. Douglas talked to Ravi, and he stopped bullying me. Even though he isn’t the friendliest person today, he doesn’t

A refreshing cool breeze blew in from the screen door, it was followed by the aroma of freshly baked cookies. As I got closer and closer to the oven I could practically taste the dough in my mouth, this was the work of my mom. As I took my first bite of the delicious cookie I hear thumping big feet shaking through the house followed by a somewhat loud jolly whistling. Dad was clearly happy to be able to have the luxury of enjoying some delicious cookies.

I came to Canada when I was nine years old. I’m an 18-year-old high school student who lives with three other family members: my father, my mother, and my 3-year-old brother. My parents came to Canada in hopes to give me a better life and they haven’t let me down once. I was born in a country where people are supposed to be Muslim or else they’d face the cruel discrimination that were openly shown. I was born in Iran, obviously I want to freely live in my own country; however, because my religion was Baha’i, I had to leave my country. Hundreds of people are being tortured or imprisoned, and tens of thousands lost jobs, access to education, and other rights--all solely because of their religious belief. The only thing that we ever wanted was

As we were hauling boxes out to the moving van, my mom was sitting in the dining room on the only chair that was left inside, looking very focused and determined to find information to ease our worries and encourage us to be more excited to move. Signs of frustration were starting to show on her face when the school website wasn’t giving her the information she had wanted, however she didn’t turn off the phone yet. With fake enthusiasm she told me to come over to her, attempting to tell me how great the new school and California was going to be. “You are going to meet great new friends and I know, in a couple of months, you will be thankful for this adventure because you will be happy there, we have a neighborhood pool and a community center,

It was my husband Kris’ idea and not at all surprising. He was definitely the more adventurous one out of the two of us. Growing up, I tried desperately to please my parents while Kris had a much easier life. He was the only son between his two sisters and had an aptitude for picking up skills quickly while still maintaining his cool, calm personality. While I was stressed everyday trying to figure out each calculus question, he flew by physics without a hitch. Kris wanted to see the world and find out what was out there while I was happy and content with my stable job.

As I walked to the parking lot where my mom had arrived to pick me up from school, my sister ran out of the car, ran towards me and yelled excitedly, “We’re going to Canada!” Having grown up in Kuwait for my whole life of 15 years, I could hardly believe my sister’s words. Going to Canada! I had only been out of the country twice, each time just to vacation and visit family in the Philippines where both my parents are from. I had always imagined what life would be like outside of Kuwait, and now it was finally going to be real. My 15-year old self was devastated - We were leaving the only home I had known for 15 years. It did not take long for my sisters’ excitement to die when we realized that we would be leaving our friends and everything we’ve ever known and not returning for a long time. Life in Kuwait for 15 years was comfortable and we were more than financially stable. Moving to Canada without a job offer in place meant that we would have to start from the beginning all over again. Goodbyes were hard but my parents encouraged us to see the joys of moving to a place where we could start over and become accepted citizens of a country. Arriving in Canada, I experienced the biggest culture shock of my life. Vancouver, BC was cold, wet, and loud. I had thought adjusting would be relatively easy; I spoke English with a slight accent but I was very shy that it confused some of the other kids to think I couldn’t speak English. I did not understand the culture, which took a