PAINFUL MEMORIES

The past might have been bleak, but my present status in life inspires hope for a better future. Whenever Addisu my Ethiopian childhood friend calls, it is always a call to celebrate another milestone achievement in America. We never imagined we could one day travel to America. None of us believed in miracles because we did not have relatives in the US to look up to and neither did we have any property to sell to secure our visa and air ticket. However, we had hope that through hard work we could make it to the Promised Land where we believed there would be no sorrow, or hunger or sickness or any form of suffering. Even though America is not the place we expected it to be, we are much better off compared to the life back in Ethiopia. I have my copy of this picture that I have framed and another copy I usually carry in my wallet to that whenever I am faced with a dilemma, I look at the poor little boys n the picture and rethink where I came from and my goals in life.

The picture also has some fond memories. It reminds me of the social and political context in my country back them. The setting of the picture also helps n shaping the mood and the tone of my childhood narrative. My narrative is composed of pain and lost childhood when I had to surpass my childhood and be the family man at the age of 10 taking care of both my parents and sisters. Therefore, to me, the picture gives me mixed memories which drive me to be a better man, humbles me whenever pride comes over me and motivates me whenever I am troubled. The picture reminds me of humbling experiences that continue to humble us as we are grounded in who were, making us more confident in our values and allowing us to soul search and make time for self-reflection.

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