Sacredness of the Ordinary

It may seem like an ordinary picture of a joyful
family, but to me it is the only memory of my country. Because I was young, I can not remember anything about my home country. Where we lived, what I did, nothing. However, I only remember the terrible times, such as getting in trouble or seeing my family depressed.

When I only became five years old, I had to leave my home and go to a foreign island. Surrounded by unknown human beings, language, and culture. I did not know how to talk to the natives or fit into them. Trying to communicate with them was a huge dare to me.

Dad, mom, grandma, sister, and uncle staring at the clear circle. I did not know why they were smiling at the stranger behind the rectangle box, nor why we crowded into a one big herd. When I look at this picture, I consistently ask myself, when will I return home. When will I meet my grandparents? Will they be the same, or did they change?

I remember the day when I flew to South Korea, only to leave to the next day. When my grandmother heard that we were in a hotel, she traveled all the way to us just to see our face and hear our voice. I remember the waterfall in her eyes and her turning away from me. At first, I didn't understand why she cried and looking back I feel truly shameful.

When I moved to United States, everything seemed everything changed. I thought I was going to move to another unfamiliar country, but U.S.A. felt very different. U.S.A. felt like home to me and familiar. Nothing seemed to be different. When I first joined 3rd grade in the US, everyone welcomed me and allowed me to stick along with them. To me, I was living a new life.

From this picture, I learned many valuable lessons. I realized that I should be always be thankful because there is someone out there suffering not only for me but for everyone. For instance, many heroic firefighters and officers risk their lives to protect us. Also, I try my best to remember the ones who always supported me and gave me hope. When I moved to New Zealand at the age of five, I had no one to rely on but myself. No one understood why I acted in a way and why I never spoke out loud. I thought there was no reason for me to explain myself. When I couldn't handle it anymore, my sister came to me and listened to all my troubles and complaints. She understood all my concern and gave me a lecture. "Justin, you don't need to rely everything on yourself, everybody is here for you. If you have any trouble then tell me, mom, or dad. If I have a problem, then I will tell mom or dad." Without the help of others, I won't be where I am now.