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Personal Narrative: My First Night In America

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When I was seven, I intentionally woke up my parents with a loud thump. It was my first night in America, as well as my first night ever away from my grandma. Among many things, my grandma is my best friend; she's the one I vent to, cry to, and laugh with. On the night my parents announced that my grandma decided she wouldn't be flying with us to our brand new home, a tear immediately formed from the side of my eye. But it disappeared as quickly as it had formed. The last thing she gave me was a handful of her favorite candy, trying to give me a little more of her heart. As she touched my hand, I felt her unconditional love for me through her countless wrinkles, and for the second time, the same tear started to form, but again, nothing shed. …show more content…

Upon arriving to our apartment, my sister, brother, and I shared three hours of endless stories my mom had missed. Soon after, my parents decided it was time for bed. Having lost in a round of rock, paper, and scissors, I was forced to sleep on the floor with my parents while my sister and brother took over the bunk beds. Within a couple of hours into falling asleep, I woke up around 3’o clock from the floor vibrating with the bass notes from the bar downstairs. Scattered memories of my grandma suddenly rushed into my head: all the times I vented to her about how much I didn't want to go to piano lessons; the times I cried to her, limping back home with a bloody scraped knee; and the times we laughed together as my baby brother tried to talk to SpongeBob and Patrick through the TV. The last memory was the final straw, and I was ready to explode with the welled up tears from trying to seem like I had it all together. Still trying to hide my true emotions, I banged my head against the wooden leg of the bunk bed in an attempt to cover the true source of the teardrops. After hearing the loud thump, my parents immediately woke up asking me, “What’s wrong, what happened,” and going along with being the boastful kid I was, I responded, “I hit my head on the bed.” My mom replied, “Everything will be okay.” But everything was not okay because my grandma should have been next to me but instead, she was half way across the world. …show more content…

I was overwhelmed by the thought of making new friends, especially without the ability to speak their language. Immediately, I felt like an alien amongst my classmates. At the end of the first week, the twins in my class approached me and invited me to their seventh birthday party. To my surprise, not even knowing my personality, these twins, nevertheless, showed their love and helped it easier for me to fit in. Their love was long lasting and we ended up becoming good friends. Learning a new language was another impossible challenge for me. However, my mom, knowing how difficult learning English was for me, put aside time to help me read little picture books every night. Reflecting back, I now realize that my mom’s consistent effort to teach me English after a tiring day at work was an act of love for me as well. During my childhood hardship, separated from my grandma, my new friends and my mom and dad filled the hole left by my grandma by expressing the same love to me in different ways. Although I still missed my grandma, people and their love embraced me and helped me to cope without

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