A Journey of Courage

I gazed mournfully at the turquoise sea from the brown wooden decks of the ship I was on. The harsh wind blew my red curly hair around, whipping my skin ruthlessly. I was on my way to America, the New World.

I already missed my homeland. Probably our warm cozy house was getting sold to some family who didn’t care about the family who previously lived in it. They would use our furniture, for we had to leave most of our things behind, taking only our most valuable and small possessions. I could take only two dresses, a valuable ring that had been in our family for years, and a diary.

It had been a hard decision to leave our home. My family and I were relatively well off living in the Old World. Back the, I remember thinking that it would be hard to even imagine going through life without all the comforts we had. But there was tension going on in the world, tension that my family detected and sensed there was going to be something wrong about to happen.

I had no idea what it was going to be like in the New World. The people could be unfriendly to us because we were immigrants. I was hoping the people would be nice, but how was I to know? What if I couldn’t find a place to go to school? What if I never got a job? What if our family was poor? There were so many worries I had.

Just then, the ship came to a stop. The wind stopped along with it, leaving the golden sun to cast its rays everywhere. I could see an island in the distance. I could see a giant beautiful copper statue, standing on a silver pedestal, holding a torch, with a crown on top of its head like the sun itself. This was the sign of freedom. I would put away my worries and face the future bravely and courageously and hope for the best, for this was the land of hope, the land of liberty: America, the New World.