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This I Believe

This I Believe

On a summer day of 1988, with only a plastic bag full of homemade wheat bread and desire for a better life, my father and his friend crossed an old wire fence as if they were going on a picnic. Two minutes later, they were stepping on American soil.
By: Angie Griggs | December 16, 2020&feature=youtu.be Share on facebook Facebook Share on twitter Twitter Share on email Email Share on print Print This I…
  • I don’t know how old I was when I developed obsessive-compulsive disorder. It had to be pretty young, because I remember being upset about turning seven. I cried because it was a “bad number” and it would take five years for me to turn 12, which was the best number. It was my number.
  • Most of my early childhood I spent being embarrassed that my parents had accents and that my food at lunch always smelled differently than everyone else’s. My dad always made me Arepas for school and no one would know what it was. Kids would just stare and continue eating their goldfish.
  • This I Believe -- On a summer day of 1988, with only a plastic bag full of homemade wheat bread and a desire for a better life, my father and his friend crossed an old wire fence as if they were going on a picnic. Two minutes later, they were stepping on American soil. His journey just started.