The day that I won the lottery was unforgettable. I recall how my husband came home with an enormous a cake in hand to celebrate. Later in that afternoon, the house began to fill in with ecstatic family and friends. The night was filled with energy and enthusiasm at our discovery of a future overseas. My husband and I had wanted to move to America since we got married. My dream as a mother was to see my daughter showered with the opportunities America provided. When the party ended, my husband turned to me and said with a smile, “It’s daunting task but it will be worth it.” I smiled back with genuine happiness. My two-year old child was the light of my life and offered a bright promise. It was so crazy how a little person could influence
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It was time to pick up my little angel from the hispanic babysitter. My daughter wore a huge jacket, hiding her beautiful face, holding an umbrella as the rain shoots thousand tears. We walked faster to our house. The rain cried loudly that I couldn’t hear my daughter’s tears. We arrived the house, her wet boots dripping water everywhere. I saw my daughter’s tears as I turned around, racing down her cheeks. I never wanted to see my daughter this way. I didn’t want to ask her if she’s okay because her face shows me the answer. I hug he tightly as touching her hair. I decided to go to the kitchen and bake her favorite cake to make her feel better. After she was done crying, I talked to her. “Mommy,The kids called me a terrorist for being Muslim” she said as her eyes shine like a diamond from the tears. “We aren’t killers. Don’t be sad. God is love and forgiving,” I told her as my hands touch her smooth cheeks. The country with opportunities called us terrorist. “ I want to go back to tata and my happy friends,” my daughter said as I remember all the good memories in Egypt. I smelled something burning which led me running to the kitchen. The cake almost burned but I saved it like a firefighter saving a baby from a burning house. My daughter eats the cake as I look at her innocent …show more content…
As soon as I arrived in the U.S, my husband found an apartment with two bedrooms. My daughter felt better because she doesn’t share the room with anyone. My dream to college in America, had its own place in my heart. However, I waited for the right time to finish my education in America.
After few months past, winter came with heavy snow days. I got sick and couldn’t pay for my medicine but I used my children’s medicine. My husband worked as a taxi driver and I decided to go back to college. My daughters go to schools every morning. However, they tend to forget how to speak Arabic. On Saturdays, they go to Arabic Islamic school to learn Arabic. My husband no longer came home angry but with a smile on his face. My prayers to God eventually came true. I lived the American Dream with my loving family.
One Friday night, I got a call that my husband was in the hospital. “A car accident occured and your husband’ leg is hurt badly,” the lady on the phone told me. After hearing the news, I ran to the hospital as fast as I could. That night was one of the scariest
It was time to pick up my little angel from the hispanic babysitter. My daughter wore a huge jacket, hiding her beautiful face, holding an umbrella as the rain shoots thousand tears. We walked faster to our house. The rain cried loudly that I couldn’t hear my daughter’s tears. We arrived the house, her wet boots dripping water everywhere. I saw my daughter’s tears as I turned around, racing down her cheeks. I never wanted to see my daughter this way. I didn’t want to ask her if she’s okay because her face shows me the answer. I hug he tightly as touching her hair. I decided to go to the kitchen and bake her favorite cake to make her feel better. After she was done crying, I talked to her. “Mommy,The kids called me a terrorist for being Muslim” she said as her eyes shine like a diamond from the tears. “We aren’t killers. Don’t be sad. God is love and forgiving,” I told her as my hands touch her smooth cheeks. The country with opportunities called us terrorist. “ I want to go back to tata and my happy friends,” my daughter said as I remember all the good memories in Egypt. I smelled something burning which led me running to the kitchen. The cake almost burned but I saved it like a firefighter saving a baby from a burning house. My daughter eats the cake as I look at her innocent …show more content…
As soon as I arrived in the U.S, my husband found an apartment with two bedrooms. My daughter felt better because she doesn’t share the room with anyone. My dream to college in America, had its own place in my heart. However, I waited for the right time to finish my education in America.
After few months past, winter came with heavy snow days. I got sick and couldn’t pay for my medicine but I used my children’s medicine. My husband worked as a taxi driver and I decided to go back to college. My daughters go to schools every morning. However, they tend to forget how to speak Arabic. On Saturdays, they go to Arabic Islamic school to learn Arabic. My husband no longer came home angry but with a smile on his face. My prayers to God eventually came true. I lived the American Dream with my loving family.
One Friday night, I got a call that my husband was in the hospital. “A car accident occured and your husband’ leg is hurt badly,” the lady on the phone told me. After hearing the news, I ran to the hospital as fast as I could. That night was one of the scariest