Where I'm From

September 19, 2016

I’m from a snow-white house
with conspicuous colosseum-like pillars.
With a driveway extending into the horizon,
I’m from learning to not give up
after my dad detached my training wheels,
even after I begged him not to.
I’m from investing hours into my LeapFrog games
that taught me life’s greatest pleasure: reading.

“Sarah Christine, please pick up your toys, the playroom is a mess,”
I’m from my full name.
I’m from constructing snow angels
with leftover wrapping paper on Christmas morning. 
After devouring a mouthwatering meal in five minutes,
I’m from homemade Pennsylvania Dutch pork and sauerkraut. 

I’m from scoring a 5 on my first AP exam,
studying like I don’t need sleep, pulling all-nighters, and a copious amount of coffee.
After late night conversations with my host sister until my eyelids felt like weights,
I’m from studying in Spain.
I’m from “When you lose, don’t lose the lesson”
and opening my rejection letter from the National Honor Society.
“Life goes on, Sarah Christine,”
I’m from my mother’s wise words
spoken in my snow-white house
with conspicuous colosseum-like pillars.

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