Personal Narrative: My Journey To America
Let me start off with my mother's journey to America. It was 1985 when her parents decided it was time for a fresh start. It was very difficult to come to America legally, so they made their journey by traveling to other countries. They left Cuba and traveled to Spain where my grandfather found a job as a farmer. They lived in Spain for almost 2 years before they gathered enough resources to travel to Mexico. The journey from Mexico to the USA was very easy for them because they had a family member who knew their way around. They struggled for many years in America but soon became legal citizens. My mother later on went to college and completed her bachelor's degree in accounting from the University of Miami. My grandparents purchased the
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My grandfather and his older children including my father spent almost a year gathering supplies and building a raft for their Travel. When they completed their raft they gathered few belongings and a week’s supply of food and traveled through the ocean. The first day was the easiest because they had very high hopes and their dream of America was coming true. They didn’t even notice the heat nor the choppy water; to them it seemed like the last bump on the road to a better life. The second day passed just as fast as the first day, but the third day was very different. The third day of their, at best, 5 day journey they woke up and realize that their food, which was on a smaller raft tied to the back of the main raft, was no longer there. To this day they do not know how it happened, they just assume that the waves forced the knot loose and the food drifted away. This was around the time that they started to become fearful for what might happen. The fourth day was when they began to feel intense hunger and fear. On the fifth day they realized that their trip wouldn’t come to an end soon. They realized that the current had slowed them down by at least two more days. At this point, hungry and hopeless,
My grandfather and his older children including my father spent almost a year gathering supplies and building a raft for their Travel. When they completed their raft they gathered few belongings and a week’s supply of food and traveled through the ocean. The first day was the easiest because they had very high hopes and their dream of America was coming true. They didn’t even notice the heat nor the choppy water; to them it seemed like the last bump on the road to a better life. The second day passed just as fast as the first day, but the third day was very different. The third day of their, at best, 5 day journey they woke up and realize that their food, which was on a smaller raft tied to the back of the main raft, was no longer there. To this day they do not know how it happened, they just assume that the waves forced the knot loose and the food drifted away. This was around the time that they started to become fearful for what might happen. The fourth day was when they began to feel intense hunger and fear. On the fifth day they realized that their trip wouldn’t come to an end soon. They realized that the current had slowed them down by at least two more days. At this point, hungry and hopeless,