For all of my childhood I have dreamt of coming to a place to be free. America, that is the only world that matched my sleeping vision. However, my childhood vanished and I have grown old, I have a child of my own now. I do not wish for her to grow up in the same way I did. I have decided to come to America at last. Not just for my dream, but for the dream of my own child as well.
We arrived at a damp and musty place where we had to stay for so long I lost count of the days. I thought that the worst of it was over, I was wrong. It was only half done. Despite our rather diseased-looking housing, I try to retain a gleeful outlook for my child. She is so full of hope, why should I crush it? I don’t know how much longer we will have to endure this, but I won’t let it crush me. I will survive this, for my child.
2 comments:
You amazed me with your writing. This really brings the photo to life.
Excellent job! You really made me feel the worries and desires the mother had for her child. Well done!
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