Prompt- Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
I walked home today. I remember the cold air slapping at my back and the beaten concrete crunching beneath my feet, and all that ran through my ten year-old mind was one word: "Why?" Why had my mother forgotten me today? After waiting at the school's rusted chain link fence for three hours, watching the street lights go on, one after another, I knew that no one was coming. And so I set out for home, leaving behind me a trail of tears. Little did I know what lay at the end of my own wet road. I would soon realize that I not only walked myself home today, but that I stumbled upon a new treasure that transformed my dreams and aspirations, and completely changed the world I lived in.
Young and excessively shy, I never settled down during my childhood. It seemed to me that I led a nomadic life. I never had the chance to really acclimate to my surroundings, to really find a friend, or a permanent location of comfort. Regardless, I never let the loneliness get to me. I knew my family would always be there for me. For the first four years of my life, I never saw my father in person. He spent the first four years of my life working in Tokyo, Japan. So naturally, I never knew much about him. All I had was a picture of him, and it comforted me at night while I lay in my mother's lap. My mother, a delicate yet hard-working and pleasantly loving person, nurtured me throughout my life. Her strength taught me to find the positive in every situation. When she ran her fingers through my hair she would always tell me "To catch the bee, you must lure them in with honey, not vinegar. So lure them in I did. I learned to find the honey in my life. I used my limitless imagination to create my own personal friend and sister when I had no friends. I told myself that my father will come one day and scoop me up in his arms just like my classmates' Babas did. I always seemed to find the honey in my situation. But today, when I was left at the school gate, I told myself that no matter what the situation, there would be no honey.
When I arrived home that day, three hours after school was out, I found my mother sobbing in the corner of the blue carpeted living room, her hands digging into the old comforter with pain and confusion. Letting my backpack slip from my shoulders, my eyes welling with tears I told her, "Mama, there's no honey today." Her wet eyes met mine, the color of happy anguish. Today, my mother had found her daughter at last. A daughter she had at the young age of 19, but because of cultural was forced to give away a part of herself. Now she had come back. I had a sister. I never prepared myself for this moment but I had expected myself to let her in with open arms. Our cultural differences hindered our attempt at a relationship. She made me feel useless. She had taken over my life, over my parents. Influenced by my childish thoughts "They were mine first," I cried. Caught up in jealousy and broken inside, I attempted to take my own life. As I opened the bottle the rattling noise of the pills acted as my own personal 911 call. She saved my life that day. Breaking through the door it was that moment when we fell into each other's arms in the small hallway in our apartment. I never expected her to be the one who would save my life, if anything I thought she would do everything she could to take it from me. From that moment on we leaned on each other, depended on each other, and helped one another grow into the people we were capable of becoming.
Seven years has passed and while the memory of the rough times I had with my sister lay in the back of my mind, I focus on the good we've built since. I'm a whole better person, a whole lot wiser. My sister was a turning point for me. Since our reunion, I better focused on and pursued my scholastic endeavors. I played varsity basketball throughout my high school years. I became involved in student council and ASB. My sister taught me the importance of a support system, and so I took it upon myself to set out to volunteer at homeless shelters as well as orphanages. I become a mentor to many younger girls, girls who I saw my old self in, ambitious, determined, and eager to grow up. My sister taught me to love, and I truly loved. I always knew my sense of eagerness to grow up paralleled my ambition to make an impact. And make impacts I did, dramatic and unique in their own sentimental and personal ways.
Today, I found my best friend. Today I arrived home soaked in my own tears. Oddly enough, they were tears that washed away my past, cleaned a new slate, and started a new path. Today I found out I had a sister, and she was coming home to me. My tears led me to her, and I just have a feeling, that it's going to be a lovely ride.
I walked home today. I remember the cold air slapping at my back and the beaten concrete crunching beneath my feet, and all that ran through my ten year-old mind was one word: "Why?" Why had my mother forgotten me today? After waiting at the school's rusted chain link fence for three hours, watching the street lights go on, one after another, I knew that no one was coming. And so I set out for home, leaving behind me a trail of tears. Little did I know what lay at the end of my own wet road. I would soon realize that I not only walked myself home today, but that I stumbled upon a new treasure that transformed my dreams and aspirations, and completely changed the world I lived in.
Young and excessively shy, I never settled down during my childhood. It seemed to me that I led a nomadic life. I never had the chance to really acclimate to my surroundings, to really find a friend, or a permanent location of comfort. Regardless, I never let the loneliness get to me. I knew my family would always be there for me. For the first four years of my life, I never saw my father in person. He spent the first four years of my life working in Tokyo, Japan. So naturally, I never knew much about him. All I had was a picture of him, and it comforted me at night while I lay in my mother's lap. My mother, a delicate yet hard-working and pleasantly loving person, nurtured me throughout my life. Her strength taught me to find the positive in every situation. When she ran her fingers through my hair she would always tell me "To catch the bee, you must lure them in with honey, not vinegar. So lure them in I did. I learned to find the honey in my life. I used my limitless imagination to create my own personal friend and sister when I had no friends. I told myself that my father will come one day and scoop me up in his arms just like my classmates' Babas did. I always seemed to find the honey in my situation. But today, when I was left at the school gate, I told myself that no matter what the situation, there would be no honey.
When I arrived home that day, three hours after school was out, I found my mother sobbing in the corner of the blue carpeted living room, her hands digging into the old comforter with pain and confusion. Letting my backpack slip from my shoulders, my eyes welling with tears I told her, "Mama, there's no honey today." Her wet eyes met mine, the color of happy anguish. Today, my mother had found her daughter at last. A daughter she had at the young age of 19, but because of cultural was forced to give away a part of herself. Now she had come back. I had a sister. I never prepared myself for this moment but I had expected myself to let her in with open arms. Our cultural differences hindered our attempt at a relationship. She made me feel useless. She had taken over my life, over my parents. Influenced by my childish thoughts "They were mine first," I cried. Caught up in jealousy and broken inside, I attempted to take my own life. As I opened the bottle the rattling noise of the pills acted as my own personal 911 call. She saved my life that day. Breaking through the door it was that moment when we fell into each other's arms in the small hallway in our apartment. I never expected her to be the one who would save my life, if anything I thought she would do everything she could to take it from me. From that moment on we leaned on each other, depended on each other, and helped one another grow into the people we were capable of becoming.
Seven years has passed and while the memory of the rough times I had with my sister lay in the back of my mind, I focus on the good we've built since. I'm a whole better person, a whole lot wiser. My sister was a turning point for me. Since our reunion, I better focused on and pursued my scholastic endeavors. I played varsity basketball throughout my high school years. I became involved in student council and ASB. My sister taught me the importance of a support system, and so I took it upon myself to set out to volunteer at homeless shelters as well as orphanages. I become a mentor to many younger girls, girls who I saw my old self in, ambitious, determined, and eager to grow up. My sister taught me to love, and I truly loved. I always knew my sense of eagerness to grow up paralleled my ambition to make an impact. And make impacts I did, dramatic and unique in their own sentimental and personal ways.
Today, I found my best friend. Today I arrived home soaked in my own tears. Oddly enough, they were tears that washed away my past, cleaned a new slate, and started a new path. Today I found out I had a sister, and she was coming home to me. My tears led me to her, and I just have a feeling, that it's going to be a lovely ride.