Personal Narrative Essay: My First Christmas In America

1085 Words3 Pages

As I stepped out of the airport, I could feel a sense of relief lifting away from my father 's face. Finally, my family and I were officially free from the constraints of a country that limited our sense of freedom. Now we were entering a new country where religious liberty was greatly encouraged. Despite all the new found freedom, life proved to be difficult for both my family and me. I now had to adjust to this new world, which was filled with various English dialects and new cultures. Making friends was especially hard, for now, I was the strange kid at school with parents who had funny accents and weird clothes. As my homesickness grew, I was reminded about the last moments I spent in my home country of Yemen. Yemen was filled with religious …show more content…

I had spent a year of my life waiting to celebrate my first Christmas in America. Christmas Eve was near, before me bright neon lights and catchy holiday tunes filled the entire school. It was a week before Christmas, and the last day of school before the holiday break would start. Yet my mind could not grasp, let alone contain, the excitement coursing through my veins as my parents picked me up from school that evening. I was only eight, about to encounter my first Christmas as a free citizen. I had high hopes for the upcoming week dreaming about what Christmas Day had in …show more content…

This room was filled with Christmas decorations that excited all my senses. The store was huge, filled with an assortment of trees ranging from small to large, pink to blue, and wide to thin. The store smelled like crisp cut wood with a hint of freshly baked cinnamon rolls wafting throughout the air. As “Jingle Bell Rock” played in the background, my eyes fell upon a tree that was small in size, but large in personality. I quickly showed my parents the tree I found, and they seemed quite pleased with my discovery when we loaded it onto our car. As we headed home, I caught a glimpse of our small tree rustling while tied to the top of our car. I was afraid it might fly off, and I would never see it again. But the tie held tight as we made a swift turn into our garage, I knew then that my first Christmas in America was heading off to a good start. Later that afternoon, I felt accomplished and full of energy, ready to begin decorating my home in bold festive trimmings and ornaments that would overwhelm anyone who came to visit over the holidays. I began to tape, move, furnish, and plug the entire weekend to make sure everything was in its rightful place. Although I was tired, I still felt a sense of achievement, and over the next week, I was finally able to sit down and enjoy my hard work. Before I knew it, the week was over, and Christmas Eve had

More about Personal Narrative Essay: My First Christmas In America

Open Document