Personal Narrative: My Daughter

My mother was named Flor to represent the beauty of a flower, whereas my father was named Ed after a horse. When I was born my parents named me Jasmine after a beautiful white flower that grows on a vine. My mother wanted a name that was floral such as hers that could represent delicacy yet strength. My mother was born in Mexico along with both of her parents, and my father was born in Panama. His father was Cuban and his mother Panamanian. Both my parents immigrated to the United States at a young age. They met in El Paso where I was born and raised. My Parents two years after having me and my brother got divorced. It was not until I was twelve that my mother remarried. My father dated a woman for eleven years, but he was never remarried. …show more content…
The teacher was a Hispanic woman named Becky. She became very enthralled with her students and pushed us to pursue our dreams. She even gave me a book for my birthday called How the Body Works, in which she wrote, “The more we learn about our bodies the more we learn about ourselves. God bless you.” Till this day I still have that book to remind me why I wanted to be a doctor. She also put me in charge of caring for the flowers that we had outside of the classroom. She taught me valuable lessons about compassion and nurturing. I learned that you should never do anything for the thank you, but because every good deed is noticed, whether it’s the small flowers that in return provides oxygen or a patient that because they are well they may now go on to touch other peoples lives. Everything and everyone are …show more content…
When my brother and I were younger my mother never let on that we were ever in financial need. We lived in a homey two story house my brother and I shared a room with bunk beds. My father is very bad with money, so at his house, my bed was sold to pay for a crib for my little sister Karmyn, and my mother and father had to switch houses so she could help him out financially. We were never in need. We always had each other.
In this way we always followed the Hispanic culture of the importance of family. Almost every week our mother’s side of the family would get together for cookouts, board games, sports. All the cousins went to the same schools and were all around the same age. When we were younger we were never allowed to be bored. My mother would always say, “He who is bored is boring.” Both parents would always push us to be active. Nature plays a huge roll in my life. Every other weekend my dad would take us either hunting or