the day i grew up

Last years, I was in Iraq, in Baghdad, in my house with my mom and sister. It was a beautiful weather, when the phone rang and my mom answered, immediately the smile became on her face when she heard we would travel to another country. After the phone closed, she came to us and said,¨we will finally travel to United States,let us go to prepare the backpacks, we do not have more time to waste¨these news were amazing, but I became sad that we left my cousin, my friend in Iraq. Next, we prepare to go to the pline, we moved in pline to Ardon, then to Germany, and then to United States. It was a fun trip in airport and also a tired one. Then,

Most people would love a world where everyone is equal and no-one has to feel pain. This type of world would be ideal to live in, but what if I told you that a world like that is not so perfect at all? If everyone is equal we would all be the same, there would be no individuality. A world with no pain would also be a world with no happiness. Also, not everyone is going to obey the rules, so there will always be a rebellious citizen.

I looked at myself at the mirror, drops of water coming out of my eyes like as if it was a rainy day in May. Hearing the news got me so upset and depressed. I sat outside and looked around the place that I have grown up and that meant a lot to me. When I heard that our family was moving to America I was not happy about that.I was angry with my family because I did not want to leave Ethiopia. I did not want to leave my friends and family in Ethiopia. It scared me that I had to leave my old life and start a new one. A month later, it was time to go the airport and get ready to go to the new country. I was nervous; my heartbeat got louder and louder as walked closer to the airport. As I bit my lip, my eyes were dancing to every corner, my legs were shaking, and my hands were sweating. I was sad that I was leaving the place that I called home and that I had to leave all my childhood memories. At the same time, I was excited because I always wondered what it felt like to move to a different country and adapt to a new world, culture, and language. At the airport, I was happy finally come face to face with the big white things that use to fly over my house. I was stunned to see how big they really were. All of the sudden my sadness turned into excitement and I could not wait to start a

It was April 3, 2015. While the wind danced around picking few leaves here and there along with itself, my spirit on the other hand, marked with unease and nervousness stood in stark contrast. It was time to board the airplane for United States of America; it was time to leave India, my birthplace as well as my home for 14 years. With hopes of achieving the American Dream, my family and I would board the airplane, oblivious to the opportunities as well as hardships and sacrifices which would follow. Although the journey might seem as a physical one - of around 15 hours, it was a moral journey of understanding new cultures, new ideas, new struggles.Nevertheless, it was a journey to understand the true beauty of the world.

School, a routine that I have to complete, every day, five days a week. Each one of those days I carry my bag, my purple and pink diamond patterned backpack to store everything from the most insignificant items like tissues and gum to the important ones like pencils and books. All these things I carry, help get me through high school and to reach one of my next goals of going to college. My folders, stuffed to the brim, shredded, ripped, that have papers falling out of all sides, hold all my important notes and assignments that need to be saved to study for finals. My extra daily contacts, located in the mid sized pocket of my bag, with prescription -3.50 and -4.25, that are ready to replace any that fall out, so I can read the board and store

For some unknown reason I do not recall any memories past my elementary school years. So who knows when I learned how to read and write? It’s funny to say that this is the whole point to this essay. Thinking about it I could always lie about it and just embellish the truth. But then again why should I lie about how my supposed mother first taught me the ABC’s with some flash cards or how she would read to me at night. When none of this true. I simply don’t remember, but if I did it would probably be the most boring thing ever. My story doesn’t began until the 7th grade. Who would have known that it was by a librarian that my passion for reading began when she showed how us book trailers. They were these mini clips that would form these books to seem like movies. It was a trailer on

Almost a decade has passed and yet, the daunting feeling of stepping off the plane, into the unknown remained. Thoughts rushed through my naïve mind, as the brisk breeze brushed my face.Where am I?Why am I here? Racing through the airport, I was overwhelmed as people paced past me, my mind filled with curiosity and my heart beating louder than a drum. Everything was new, the silence, the purity, the beauty.This new country seemed unrealistic to me, it felt like I was in a dream as I was introduced tonew things. Aspects I couldn’t understand as a little girl were all thrown at me in an instant, skin colours that I didn’t think existed, a new culture, and a new language which sounded like drivel. I slowly began to realize that this wasn’t a dream,

I went to America with my Mom, my sister, and my Grandma. I had to go to the airport to take a plane.

“I told you” was a saying that I heard a lot throughout my preteen years. When I was nine my family and I lived in the state of New Mexico, where it was always a comfortable seventy degrees in the autumn time and ninety degrees in the summer. When I turned eleven years old my family and I later moved to Oklahoma for my parents work. Growing up I was a stubborn, hardheaded, and curious boy who didn’t listen to the elders. Being carefree at that age, I didn’t really care what happened, but little did I know there were others my age that were just as curious as I was. Sometimes, my mom even had to put a helmet on my head just so she knew I would be okay. During this age I reached a sudden realization that I can make my own decisions. My parents usually told me what to do, whether it was chores around the house or doing my homework. One day when I got home from school, I decided that I didn’t want to do my math homework so I didn’t. When I got to school the teacher told us it was time to turn in homework. All of my classmates were handing papers in while I didn’t move a muscle in my warm seat. The teacher made her last call for homework and that was it. I later learned the consequences of not doing my homework when I was told to.

In the evening, I was excited to see another traveller arriving at the accommodation. He was just coming from Goris and on his way to Iran now, so we shared our stories and knowledge about each country. I couldn’t stop talking about Iran and cared only little about Armenia. But I got my route figured out thanks to him and the next day, it was time to go to

My parents grew up in Mexico, where they weren’t able to have the most pleasant childhood or receive an adequate education due to the difficult circumstances, but they wanted me to have a better life. They didn’t want me to struggle the same way they did; therefore, like many any other Hispanic families, they came to the United States to seek a better life for themselves, but especially for me. I’ve always looked up to my parents for being well-rounded, hard workers and optimistic despite all the obstacles they have faced. Even though, life can seem very tough at times, my parents’ hardships have taught me that anything can be overcome with determination and effort.

The day I lost my innocence was the day my life was forever changed. For the past couple of days we have been hearing about the civil wars in the different Liberian counties. I can hear the fear in my dad’s voice as he tells me of the horrible things the rebels are doing. They are killing all of the people that do not support or believe in what they are doing. I am from one of the richest countries in the world, blessed with many natural resources. This small West African country called Liberia, is one of the world’s largest exporters of rubber, diamonds, and gold. But this beautiful country will never hold the esteemed place that it once held. War has torn this beautiful land a part. I hate wars, I hate everything about them. If I had the power and the chance to do great things in this world, I would do everything in my power to stop people from fighting war; so that people don’t have to die. But interestingly, my view on wars was not always this way. At one point in my life, the idea of war was exciting to me, mostly because it was always glorified. From what I saw on television, war movies were depicted with beautiful story lines that made me want to take part in that exhilarating experience. But this view was suddenly changed when I was forced to take a man’s life. My troubles all started just one month ago when the rebels finally took over the capital city of Liberia, called Monrovia. I awoke to barrels of gun fire, everything I knew and loved to do was takin from

It was a bone chilling January night; my mom received a call at about 11:15 PM, a call that changed my life forever. My Aunt June was on the other line. She was crying so hard my mother could barely understand her. Through the sobbing my mom finally understood that Brian, my cousin, had been in a horrible accident and she didn’t know how bad it was. My mother jumped out of the bed after she hung up the phone. She screamed up the stairs at my sister and me; it was a nerve shrilling scream. I could hear fear in her voice. My mom was always yelling at us growing up if we forgot to do something. She would even get us out of bed to finish something that wasn’t done completely. This particular

It wasn’t until the morning of Saturday, May 21, 2016 that I realized what the true feeling of unconditional love was. The moment a parent looks into his or her child’s eyes there is just so much love it’s unbelievable. People think they know what love is when they love a significant other, family member, or a close friend; however, that love is nothing compared to the love a parent experiences the day his or her child is born. That is the love I felt the moment I placed my beautiful baby boy on my chest.

Throughout my life, there were many days that were significant; however there is only one day that stands from the rest. The most important day of my life is the day I graduated high school. Graduating high school was an emotional day because I felt prepared to exit one stage of my life and optimistic for the next step in my life.