The warm, mouthwatering scent of homemade chicken ravioli wafted through my uncle's home, comforting me and making me feel an exceptional sense of belonging. I bite into the soft shell coated in delicious marinara sauce, remembering my family’s beautiful history and culture and appreciating it all more than ever. My family comes from the beautiful hidden city of Ascoli Piceno, Italy. My great-grandparents only ever dreamed of having a family and creating great recipes. While this little life was enough for her and her husband, she wanted to give her family more opportunities to follow their dreams. After much deliberation, they finally decided to immigrate to America, moving to Langhorne, Pennsylvania. This bustling town is where my grandpa was born, bringing him to pass along a plethora of secret family recipes, including his father’s incredible chicken ravioli, and create a family brimming with love. Though my Poppy died when I was young, I have grown up my entire life surrounded by stories of his beautiful soul. While my mom mourned her father’s passing, she and the rest of our family found comfort in the foods that he would make for us, children and adults alike. As silly as it may seem, rolling out the dough and mixing the filling when making ravioli with my family every year is something I find that has always connected me to my culture. While my family’s moving story may not be one of immense hardship and struggle like many others, its incredible value doesn’t diminish as I wouldn’t be here today without the sacrifices my family made for me and my future.

– Alina Adams

Relationship:  Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more