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Shedding Sweat and Blood for Gold Mountain

I believe that most immigrants who come to the United States face the same problem my family faced at first: disappointment. Many people immigrate to the United States for a better life. I know this is the reason my parents immigrated to America. They also wanted to provide a better learning environment and living conditions for me.

I came to the United States when I was 2 years old: too young to remember anything. I sometimes get curious and ask my parents about how it was in America in the early years. They tell me the whole story about how hard it was for them to make a living here. The United States was not what they expected. In China, they heard many fairy-tales about golden mountains and pools of cash in America. All the stories they heard are in fact true, but you just have to work really hard, for many years.

My dad told me that when we first arrived, he had only $200 tightly gripped in his hands. Our relatives helped us rent one of those one-bedroom apartments in Chinatown, where you share a bathroom and kitchen with other tenants. My dad felt very disappointed. The place was filthy, crowded, and worst of all, it had an awful stench. All the fantasies about this “new” world got flushed down the toilet.

My dad woke up the next day and found a job working in a restaurant washing dirty dishes. It was better than nothing because we needed money desperately. Two hundred dollars will not last a family of three for very long. Soon, he worked his way up to be a waiter, where his salary was a bit higher. Later on, he got his driver’s license and began working as a deliveryman. Every day, he would bike to work because all we could afford was a bike.

We did anything we could to conserve money and decrease our spending. We even microwaved the tiny leftover bars of soap to make one full bar so nothing was ever wasted. Earning money and keeping the family alive was a big problem my dad had to face. He never had to think of these things when he was in China because we had deep roots there. We didn’t worry about having to sleep on the streets one day because he had many relatives that could have supported us. In America, it is different; we are on our own.

After a few years, my mom gave birth to my sister. That’s when we needed fast cash. When my sister turned one, my mom went out and looked for a job, and I was left at home taking care of my sister. Every 30 minutes, my mom called to make sure we were all right.

As my sister and I grew older, we got used to living in the small apartment. We understood that our parents were working extremely hard to provide for us. Therefore, we knew we shouldn’t be so demanding about moving to a bigger apartment, or even a new house. We understood that it was going to take a while for that dream to come true.

After 14 years, we finally made enough money to buy a house. In all the time we had lived in that same old one room apartment, my father had not complained once. After many years, my dad switched from a bike to an old motorcycle to a used car to a new car. All the luxuries that I have today are earned through blood and sweat by my parents.

Sometimes, I take things for granted, but after hearing my dad’s story, I understand that they have worked really hard to keep a roof over my head. Now that I’m 17, I realize that my parents have worked 17 long years to raise me, and I can’t repay them for all the blood and sweat they’ve shed. I appreciate everything I have.