It was 1924 and I was excited, too excited. My father had given wonderful, yet terrifying news. It was my turn to go to America. My family and I had lived in Italy for many centuries. I began to shake, knowing what happened to my mother when she attempted going to America. My mother had received a contagious, dreadful disease, called Trachoma. My mother was strong, she fought her last days with everything she could. However, the disease had taken over and it was too late. My family had been given the terrible news a couple months later. Our family couldn't go together because of our lack of money. But, I am 18 years of age, so I was eligible to go by myself.I was the second to go to America. This pressure and anxiety took over which led to me passing out.
The next day, I woke up to my father banging pots and pans together. Today was the day. Today I was alone going across the world with no one waiting for me on the other side. It was 6:30am and I was trembling, praying the day would stop somehow so I had more time to say goodbye to my family. I began to sob, uncontrollably. The ship left at 7:00am. I jumped out of bed and darted towards the
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I wasn't able to stop repeating them. One. More. Day. Excitement ran through me like a bolt of lightning. I jumped for joy, the first real smile in two weeks had stretched across my face. That night, I ate my piece of bread and drank my little bit of water and headed to the blanket on the floor. I fell asleep quickly knowing I was about to become a somehwhat American. Ellis Island here I come! The following morning was suprisingly peaceful. The sickness had begun to leave the third class. Only a few of us had died on the way over. The captain announced that there were only a few more hours before we came in contact with Ellis Island. Finally, the moment I had been waiting for we were here. I thanked God for keeping me alive and somewhat healthy throughout this dangerous