南投縣復臨國際實驗教育機構(Taiwan Adventist International School)

The Impact of a “Once”
     Hunting hungrily for clues, cues, patterns, and pieces, there was complete madness in my head. My eyes were sore for hours and I had a throbbing headache. The fuzzy images of the living room went in and out of focus. It troubled my vision, and my conscience was taken over. Our marbled living room floor was also in a chaotic state. It was as if a bomb had fallen directly into my home. Was I trying to decipher a difficult code or maybe even to scheme an evil plan in my young preschool mind? No, it was my first day trying to conquer a peace-offering gift after a stormy, explosive tantrum. The gift was my first 5000-piece jigsaw puzzle.

The Story That No One Believes
 
  I am an ordinary girl, but my story makes me different. If you are a person who judges a people by rumours, then you will never know who I am. If you ask my friends or even the people who don’t really know me in TAIS who June is, they might answer you like this: “Oh! She is the one who really cares about her grades” or “She is the obedient girl who has good grades.” On the other hand, if you ask my friends in my old Taiwanese system school the same question, they will say, “She is the smart girl, but she never studies.” These
comments reveal only half of my story.  

Nursing Home Musing
    Music has always been a part of my life. My older siblings played the violin so I was more than eager to join in with scratchy renditions of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and Jingle Bells. They had to let me join in, otherwise they had no peace from my curious fingers plucking their violin strings as they tried to practice. My little body swelled with joy whenever Mrs. Bishop came for my violin lesson. At the age of three, I did not realize the impact music would have on me, and through me to other people, over the years. 

Moving On

    A large lorry laden with bricks slammed into my chest. Everything froze in front of my eyes: time, my family, my thoughts. Well, that’s what it felt like. The same phrase repeated in my head: ‘They denied our green card appeal’. Tears began streaming down my
face.
  I flashed back to the summer of 2007, my family and I moved from England to a boarding school in Tennessee, USA. Being only six years old at the time, I acclimatized quickly to the change of scenery. We were living there on a five-year visa which would expire in 2012. As the time of the visa expiration approached, my parents applied for our green cards. They filled out many forms, and sent them in. We went to a doctor’s office to receive the different shots required for the green card application.
  June 2013 came around, and we received a letter telling us that our green cards had been denied. At twelve years old and being quite naive, I told myself that the government had made a mistake and we would receive another letter saying that they sent us the wrong letter. I convinced myself of everything except the fact that we might have to uproot our lives at any given moment. That summer, I attended my first, invigorating camp in Virginia, and became certified in First Aid and CPR. A four-day family trip to visit friends in Florida, over the Fourth of July weekend, followed. It was as if my parents knew it would be our last summer there. During summer break, my parents met with a lawyer to fill out the appeal form. Summer break ended, and my hopes were still up for an apology letter.
  The school year began again, and life carried on as normal. I went to school, and hung out with friends. I thought life was going just fine until that fateful winter morning.