It was not until a day before me and my family left our country when decided to tell my friends the reason why they won’t be seeing me the next day at school, if ever again. Such short notice prevented any good-bye parties or anything of the sort, just as I wanted. I did not really expect anything from my friends, the memories alone were all I needed; yet, they did give me something, each one of them wrote me a letter. In those letters, they told me how good I was to them as a friend, how much they would miss me, and how they all felt that my future would be bright wherever life took me. I don’t imagine myself being so caring for someone else.  As I am writing this, I have those letters in front of my eyes, with the ink slightly diluted, and the paper showing signs of aging. Those letters are my precious tokens, cherished memories that every so often take my thoughts back to my old friends, my family left behind, and the city I was born in. There is not one day that goes where I cannot help but imagine myself walking out of my old house towards my old school, with the majestic volcanoes that guard my city looking over me. Yet, at the same time, those tokens are the reason why I have not yet been able to fully move on with my life in the United States. I hope one day I find a balance. I hope one day I will stop spending so many hours daydreaming, reminiscing about the past or wondering about what the future has to offer, and live the present. 

– Rodrigo

Relationship:  Im/migrant who arrived as a child Im/migrant who arrived as a child