A/N—Ossu! Wow, no disclaimer! I actually own all the stuff in here, for once. Anyways, don't even flame this. This was originally for a Social Studies assignment (write about how you would feel if you were an immigrant, and write in journal format), and I kindof liked how it came out. How do you guys like it? Yes, no, maybe if it were a little different. R+R please, and you would make me really happy. It's really short, and it'll take you all of three minutes (if you're really slow at reading) to read this.
February 3, 1914
The wind is all around me. It's pushing away from Ireland, my home, and towards the new place I am to spend eternity: America. My skirts are blowing all around my legs, my hair around my face; the wind's doing. I am silently thankful though, that no one can see through my dark auburn curls. That way no one can see the tears I cry this very night; tears for me only, for I am leaving my home, the emerald greens and the craggy coast of Ireland, a thing of pure beauty.
As my tears blur my vision I think not at all of the small, unsteady ship on which I am standing, or the big country with 'streets paved with gold', as some put it, that I am about to settle in. I instead wallow in my self-indulgence; a nauseous feeling was creeping into my oh-so-sensitive stomach, and my chest was heaving and aching. Besides the fact that I am deathly afraid of any pool of water larger than the washtub, I can't get out of my mind the vision of that new, scary place I am going to live in, the place with some many more people to make me uncomfortable.
I am thinking not only of my fears and insecurities, but of the home and people I will miss dearly. Now, as I stand waiting, waiting for this ship to set sail, it is hard to tell which plasters my wet hair to my face: the blinding rain or my tears. Mama I think as more tears cascade down my face. Dada, Anne, Will, Nan… -my family. I am leaving them, in the event that I most likely will never see them again; never get to see my sisters grow into ladies, or my brother into a gentleman, never again get to help my mother make a rabbit stew… I will never see my Dada smile his merry smile, or see the next-door neighbor, Peter, play his pipes during the boring summer months.
I will miss these things – that is what I weep for. I pull the shawl my mother had knitted for me close around my shoulders, and bury my face in it, trying to wipe away tears. It reminds me of my Mama, and my first home. But I will soon have a second home, a home with my parents' friends in Brooklyn, a home in America.
I would be lying if I said I'm not at least a little excited about going to a new country, and seeing new things. I am excited, excited beyond belief. I really think I might burst with happiness, but there is one thing keeping that happiness and joy inside of me, and keeping these feelings hidden. That is, as you already know, the sadness and bitterness of leaving not only my family and friends, but also enemies and acquaintances. Perhaps this is what is meant by the puzzling word 'bittersweet'.
I see Mama. She is as close to the edge of the dock as she can possibly get, waving a handkerchief she and I embroidered. Tears, I see, are glistening in her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she is very strong – she won't cry. My Dada… He seems – empty in a way, probably because he's losing his oldest daughter. My sisters and brothers are all waving, but they are all too young to really understand what is happening – they don't know that they will never see me again.
Finally, I catch a glimpse of Peter. He is playing his pipes, as he always did in the summer, to cheer me up. He won't cry out loud, I know. But I know he is crying inside, and his heart is probably being torn apart, like mine. He waves to me, taking one hand off his pipe. I see him mouth, 'Bye, Katie.' I call back to him, and my whole family, 'Goodbye… I love you!' even though they cannot hear me, what with the wind, and all the other people shouting around me. The sun peeks out a little from in between the dark clouds, still letting out a light drizzle, and I feel warmth, happiness, and love radiating from the giant yellow ball in the sky.
'The sun sends its warmth and love…
A bit of Heaven shining from above.
But I see you all down here…
So, my family, take these tears.
Save them all, make them last…
They can remind you of our past.
I'll see you again, somewhere, someplace…
Until then, remember this smiling face.
As I sail with this ship away…
Remember I'm still with you, every day.'
Do you like the poem, journal? I wrote it just now. It tells exactly how I feel. One day I want to see my family again, even if it's not until we perish. But, for now, I believe I'm with them each and every day, or at least my spirit is. And I also believe that although Ireland will be my home now and forever – America can be one of my homes too.
A Sincere Daughter, Sister, and Friend, Now and Forever,Katie
A/N – Did anyone like this? Maybe… Could yall do me a favor and review? Please, you would make me really happy… Also, the girl's name is Katie, as you found out with her saying goodbye to Peter and her family. How'd you like the poem? I wrote it, and I'm not too good at writing poems, I don't think. Does anyone else think I should turn this into a series thing? Not journal entries, of course, but maybe a book of some sort. Yes? No? Finally, does anyone want to read this really weird story that my friend and I wrote for English? She came up with the idea, I wrote it for her… Kinda strange, but she likes it a lot… Ja ne! (I'm learning Japanese! I'm proud of myself… Roughly this means 'See ya!', in English… I think… I hope… ::crosses fingers:: Oh, and 'Ossu!' at the beginning means 'Hi!', from the info. I've gathered. Correct me if I'm wrong.)
~*Liz*~ Love and Peace to all.
(My cousin and I… Anything we copyright, we copyright with this. No questions? Just didn't want anyone to take my story and use it in any other way, unless I give my permission… Hey, if you do, I can sue you! Funny, that's the first time I've ever said that… It feels nice!)