AM IMMIGRANT'S STORY

AN IMMIGRANT'S STORY

Authors Note: This is the story of one citizen, one immigrant that came to our shores, looking for a better life for their families, or to escape persecution. He could be my grandfather or your grandfather, for this is the story of many Americans. This is the story of the kind of man, that helped make American great,

This month, I have resolutely made up my mind. After years of thought, I am putting aside my fears, my loyalties, my uncertainty. It is decided, I am going to America. Something in my heart tells me I should go.
My family, friends, and loved ones here at home will be heartbroken. I will leave behind my home, my farm, and everything I’ve ever known. I may even have to leave behind the women that I was to marry. Her father has sworn to refuse his permission for us to marry, if I insist on leaving the country, without so much as a job waiting for me. Even at the risk of losing her, I had to do what my heart told me to do. I knew full well that the journey would be risky, and the future unknown, yet, I felt strangely and irresistibly drawn to the promise of this new place.
In some ways, I feel like a traitor to my own country. I wonder how I can leave my homeland, my place of birth, my memories, and everything that has meant so much to me behind. Can my allegiance to this new place ever surpass the love I have for my own country?
My mind has been tormented with the unknown. Where will I live there, how can I feed myself, will the people already there accept me. I don’t know the language and I have very few skills, but I having a willing heart, and I am willing to work hard, sacrifice, and learn.
I have heard that, in this new world, men can fulfill their dreams. I have heard that no matter what your lot in life was, it’s possible to become rich, to own vast tracts of land, to be respected. I’ve heard that the ideas a man has and what’s in his heart has great value there.
Now, my thoughts and dreams will be full with wonder and expectation. I have sold the few things I own to pay for the passage, I now have my ticket and I walk to the harbor each day to await the ship, the very same ship that I anxiously awaited to gather news on each trip back from its distant port, and now the ship that will carry me to my future home.
Many of my friends that had warned me, cautioned me, about leaving, are now full of questions. They are hungry to hear the stories I have to tell about the new land. I can see in their eyes, that they are now beginning to contemplate such a bold move for themselves, much as I had done months ago.
Tomorrow the ship leaves, I spend the evening with my friends and family, drinking, singing dancing. My girl wants to go with me, but cannot disrespect her father’s wishes. We talk and cried quietly, well into the night, out by the garden illuminated by the full moon. It was that night that I made a promise to send for her when I have made my fortune. She tells me she will wait for me and that she has a surprise for me tomorrow at the dock.
My excitement keeps me up most of the night, long after everyone has left, but finally I succumb to sleep. I find myself awake at the first sign of dawn, and I walk down to the ship. Within an hour there is a large crowd of passengers and well wishers gathered about. They crew lowers the gang plank as the ships steam whistle echoes thru the town.
The passengers all begin loading but I wait until the last minute because my girl is nowhere to be seen. This is the moment I have waited so long for, and yet now that it is here, I feel like my soul is divided. Half of me wants to stay here in the land of my family, yet the rest of me yearns to go to my new home.
The ship blows it’s huge whistle one more time, this is the last call and I must board now or be left behind. I stop halfway up the plank as I hear my name being called from the dock. As, I turn, I see my fiancée as she throws me a cloth sack, and sadly waves and blows me a kiss from afar.
I am the last one to board and as I walk onto the deck of the now crowded ship I notice I am trailing a long string of red yarn from a small hole in the back of the cloth sack. My eyes trace the string thru the crowd and back to the hand of my girl, who is waving slowly and solemnly as the ship begins to slowly pull away.
I wave good bye to her and to the place of my birth. Somehow I feel that our souls are still connected as the yarn feeds out of the bag. The wind picks up as the ship leaves the small harbor and reaches deeper water. Abruptly the yarn ball reaches the end. I hold on desperately to my end and then with a snap the tension suddenly is gone.
The dock and the town fade slowly from my sight as tears roll down my face and the red yarn floats and waves slowly in the wind behind the ship. The end of the yarn means a new beginning for me. Now, I know, I am truly on my own.
My life has been hard since I left that ship and a small island in New York harbor, but after 7 years of hard work in America, I finally made a success of myself. I had never forgotten my promise to my young fiancé and sent her a letter, along with enough money to make the journey, asking if she still had feelings for me. I must say I was surprised when she said she had not forgotten her promise either and would take the next boat over and gave me the details.

I will never forget that fine spring day when I waited for her with anticipation at the dock in New York. The years had changed me, and the way I looked, and I wondered if we would even recognize each other. When the boat docked, a great many people got off, yet as hard as I looked, I did not see my love. I was beginning to think that she had changed her mind, or that perhaps we walked right past each other, when one last person stepped off the boat. We looked at each other for a few seconds and I began to cry. You see, as if to remove any doubt, as she approached me, she slowly opened her hand and there was a small strip of the red yarn, faded and worn, that she had kept and treasured for all those years. I was now re-united with the one I loved and my life was now complete. That day marked the start of our family, here in the United States.
P.I.B.