Fighting with Faith

    It was a sunny spring day, the first of several weeks. With no clouds to be seen in the bright blue sky, the sun became the center of attention. As the sunlight pooled peacefully against the grass, it swayed from side to side, being pushed by the light breeze. During that day, a young girl was seen running around, playing, in the backyard of her home. Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement while her lips slowly curled into a heartwarming smile, creating the softest hint of a dimple in her glowing cheeks. All of a sudden, she was called to come inside.

    Hija, come here, Says a woman.Though the voice of the woman sounded unfamiliar, the young girl went inside. Perhaps the woman was a family friend, she thought.

    Once coming inside, two strangers were seen holding two children, beaming with delight, while her mother stood in silence- or so she thought. It was as if there was an aura of gray creeping around her.

    Mami, why are you sad?. The young girl asked as she walked towards her mother.

    Her mother’s face showed distress and as she closed her eyes, drops of tears slowly ran down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away and took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat.

    Hija, I am only your auntie. These people are your mami and papi. She says, pointing at the man and woman.

    The young girl tilted her head to the side and looked at her mother in confusion. Her eyebrows furrowed, unsure of whether she should have been angry or upset. Though the young girl was only 4, she quickly understood that her life had been a lie. To grow up with the people who she considered as her parents, only to be pushed into a stranger’s arms and having to call them ‘mami’ and ‘papi’. The young girl then felt a terrible weight on her shoulders. It was as if a giant boulder had laid on her and she couldn’t think straight. She should have been crying, screaming even, but she was too numb to even have any thoughts.

Photo of an airplane flying Photo of an airplane flying in reverse

    Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. The young girl was then told that she would immigrate to America with her new family for a chance of a better life. This was the breaking point. She cried and begged to stay because to her, her real family were her aunt and uncle; the only people who’ve taken care of her. But, no matter how much she begged to stay, it was no use. She would be taken far away from the people she loved the most. It was almost as if the 4 years of her memories were merely an imagination- a dream that she’ll soon have to wake up from.

    Once arriving in America, the young girl felt a state of depression that she, herself, couldn’t see through. There was a giant hole that formed in her heart, and she knew nothing would ever be the same. The hot tears that escaped her swollen eyes were . . . almost . . . never ending. The pain felt in her heart was so deep . . . so agonizing . . . so intense. Sobs consumed her body; no one should be able to cry that hard.

    Perhaps the move was to help the young girl at a chance for a better life, but it had only taken a turn for the worst. As each day went by, the young girl’s mental health worsened and her relationship with her biological parents felt estranged as if they were nothing but a couple of strangers. Her mother and father were workaholics, working day and night, oblivious to the depression the young girl had fallen to. With no one to depend on, the young girl had not only become depressed, but anorexic as well. Yes, it was bad. Yes, it was wrong. But this was the only way she knew how to communicate and gain her parent’s affection.

    Things slowly got better and the light that once appeared in the young girl’s brown eyes returned. However, it wasn’t until the day she encountered a racist woman in a store. The young girl had no intentions and only wanted to buy a few items. But the woman was not having it. In the crowded place, the woman began to scream at the young girl.

    People like you don’t belong in this country! All you Mexican people should leave our country and leave now! She says.

    It was like a slap to the face. Around her, everything was in fast-forward while she was motionless in the middle of it all. With no one to interfere, the young girl ran out of the store with wet, hot tears running down her cheeks. She was unaware as to why people were this way. To be treated differently because of one’s race; an identity that cannot be changed. Society has shaped our minds to think that the appearance of an individual speaks loudly rather than one’s own actions or motives. And for that, it’s okay to deprecate others. But, through it all, through all the traumatic experiences, the one lesson the young girl learned was to keep her head held high and continue fighting with faith.

    Years later, it was time for the girl to apply to college. Like many of her peers, she, too, filled out her application and the required materials. Before she knew it, decision day came by. The girl felt her heart beat faster with every moment to hear her decision because to her, she believed that she would get in, despite the fact that she didn’t have what others had: citizenship. The girl quickly opened her phone only to freeze and realize that she didn’t get into her dream school. She felt her knees buckle, and in that moment, she collapsed to the floor, dejected, swollen with emotions and realizations of her fate. She closed her eyes, but it didn’t stop the tears that threatened to spill out her eyes. Her mind numb, raced in circles, unable to make sense of what happened. Was this real? She thought. But it was. She was. Awake and alive; but there’s a difference between being alive and living . . . and she had to learn that.

    With time, the girl realized that the only person that could change her future is herself. She wasn’t willing to accept defeat and will fight to get into her dream school. But, for now, she will work hard to pay for school by herself and attend The Community College of Philadelphia. Faith is the light that will guide you through the darkness . . . just one step at a time . . . whatever it takes.