When my mother’s family moved to America to escape the war in Cambodia, they did not bring much. They did not bring any toys for my mother or her sisters as they had to get out in a hurry. She was the youngest of 9, but 6 of her siblings died or were killed. My mom’s dad soon died, so her family decided to go to America as refugees of the genocide. My mother’s family was very poor and relied on my great-aunt’s factory job to stay in their small house they were renting out. My mom got a scholarship to go to a Catholic school where she excelled. She became very close to the landlord’s wife, who made her a dog and cat of strings, and wool. My mom gave my brother and me the dog when we were five because the cat got destroyed.
 

– JZ

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant