Location – Denver, Colorado.
When I was 5 years old, Mommy was 29, and Daddy had just turned 30, and Victor a mere hypothesis. We were on our way to Dallas, Texas, and were going to spend a few months in Denver. It was our first too-far-to-come-over-every-month move, one of three (so far). From what I remember, we were using the children’s Sabbath school room as a bedroom, and sleeping on an air mattress that would sometimes wake my parents up in the middle of the night with their back on the floor. One of those childhood memories that never ereases from my mental memory trunk is in that room.
I remember turning over to my mother on the first night as an alien in the U.S., crying and reality finally sinking into my little mind, I ask and tell her, ”When are we going home? This isn’t were we belong!” With a shaky voice my mother whispers to me, ”We don’t belong anywhere on this earth, we belong in Heaven. Sleep now.” This year, we’ve made another move. It hasn’t been easy, but now I can understand the truth of her words. We don’t belong in Brazil, Toronto, or even here in British Columbia. I don’t belong here, therefore I don’t have to worry about fitting in. And neither should you. Because no matter how hard you try, you’ll never belong here on earth. You belong in a place much different than any place you’ve ever lived in or visited. A place where you’re neighbours will be you’re family, you’re neighbourhood the safest, and you’re country the brightest. I don’t belong here. I’m just passin’ through. I hope you are too.