Every year in Haiti, I used to go to my parents hometown, Aquin and celebrate with everyone for Easter. We eat seafood, go to the beach, visit other towns, play soccer and many more with my uncles, aunties, cousins. I get to see them, have fun but there’s one thing I get excited over: I’m going to eat a lot of mango! My uncles go with me to my grandpa's farm, I take some from the trees and eat while soaking in the river. My aunties feed me and make juice everyday and hide a basket full for me to go home with so my brothers don’t steal and I don’t have to share. On the way to the beach or river with my cousins, there are a lot of trees, so we managed to take some and eat on the way as well. I eat 1-3 everyday. Sometimes I even got sick but I never stopped eating it, and they never stop me from eating it or stop from giving to me. It’s not something expensive, not money either but I wouldn’t trade it for anything and it was more special and meaningful. This part of the year was my favorite and it became a tradition. I think also it became the best way to tell that we care and love each other. Even though some of us can’t be there anymore, and I can’t eat mango, the tradition still lives on. My aunties give the mango to my mom and she takes some and gives the rest to the friends we used to bring along with us. As I think about it, I realized how fortunate I am to have learned, and get closer to my family. The bond we created through this tradition will live on for many generations. We can never be too far apart.