"Out, everything out." The words swarmed through my innocent head at the age of nine. Mother, father , on their knees, begging for time. Some more time. "We have little children!" my mother had screamed over and over. Nothing seemed to work. Flashes of tears, sighs, and worry spread across my parents faces. The bank,(or the enemies as I had remembered at the age of nine) were here to take away our house, which was in foreclosure. Luggage and boxes were being hauled out into our car, although the destination was unknown. The term "dirt poor" became a malicious reality to me. The obscure memory, which irked numerous emotions in me, was about to occur again. Eight years later, in the midst of junior year, years after becoming stable, are house was in foreclosure once again. Every day of my junior year of high school I would walk home in fear of reliving this memory. Reliving the feeling of "mine" turning into "theirs". My emotions had slipped into fear, anxiety and eventually low grades. I told myself that I could not let the bank, the house, or any negative thoughts be a catalyse in determining my future. I told myself that I had to fight.
I had to fight and overcome that feeling of my heart breaking into tiny pieces when I came back home from school to find that not a forclosure, but a burglary had taken place in possibly the poorest house in the neighborhood. Mine. I had to fight for my mother's tears after every single piece of her jewelry, in which every memory of her life was ornamented, was missing. I had to fight for my jobless fathers, whose last bit of savings that he keept so safely in a little jar beside his closet stand, was now gone. I had to fight to show the ruthless animals who took away our last source of safety money, that they took nothing. They took nothing, because I still had my education. My education can bring those things back. Although the tears and sighs of my parents are irreversible , I cannot let any obstacle can stand in my way of bringing the life that my parents wished to give my siblings and I. rather the incident has influenced me to dwell upon not my losses but upon my greatest strength of the time, which was my study, my education. Not until this incident did I realize that it was almost a blessing to be in the most rigorous classes in high school, an opportunity I was lucky to have, but did not value until that day.
The constant loss that has occurred in my life allows me to open up to anything, often living by the term "I have nothing to lose." In fact I believe my losses have taught me how to win. My losses have made me the stronger person that I am today. I've utilized my loss as my strength being that it has helped me understand what I truly want and need in life. Having things taken away from me has allowed me to embrace the things I do have. What stood by me after the materialistic things were gone? my family and education. What will I for? My family and education.
