This is the first time I’m doing one of these daily blog events, Never seemed to have something to write about it lol! But, without much ado? as the saying goes! The daily prompt asks the following.
Alright, So. My Hero when I was five, Well. When I was five I was in Chile, Iquique’s elementary school. On my first few years I had a difficult time fitting in, Having moved to a latin country from Taiwan made us a VERY visible minority in the early 80’s. In many cases, we had either theft attempts at our own home by people who thought we were somehow wealthy or something. President Pinochet didn’t make things easy for everyone either, But if there was ever one person who made my life there possible?
I have to say it was Mrs. Rosa My absolute hero. The first day she saw my sister and I walk into the classroom, two little asian children looking completely lost. She welcomed us with open arms, I still remember how much joy she brought to me. In recess, she always looked out for me and whenever I was sad or lonely. She would always try her hardest to let me know she cared, Keep in mind. That I didn’t know how to speak Spanish very well at that age, But. Somehow she just knew. She had this natural ability, To just put her hand on someone’s shoulder and comfort with just a smile. I remember, how she would stay later at school long after the students left to further reinforce my speaking skills. Without her coaching me, I would of continued to be lost. But, she didn’t just take care of my sister and I in school, she even invited us over to her place for Christmas and her home for dinner often.
My fondest memory, was one evening we were visiting her at her place on Christmas eve. When we suddenly heard bells go off, Someone from her family had hung presents on the tree outside. Since our part of Chile was super arid, We barely got any rain let alone snow so this to her was considered a Christmas tree. She had given us so much, Yet never asked for anything in return. She was just that beautiful, A few years after that though my parents decided we were to move up to Vancouver, Canada. But, A couple of weeks before we left she gave my sister and I both english names. My current one in fact, She said that it would be a name that I would remember made by her. I miss those days, Truly do. Especially, how radiant she looked in her wedding dress and how she said she’d always remember us and how I was her little gentleman. Wherever she is now, I want to let her know that I remember her too š
The Wandering Poet 