G.+Most+Difficult+to+Write

My African Sister “Goodbye, my sister,” she said as she gave me one last hug. In those few days spent with her, she changed my definition of the word family. She came to us, in her African clothing, with pure desire to love. She didn’t stay long, but her influence on us will never be forgotten. We gave her shelter in our home and she gave us understanding of a world we were never part of. Living in a time of genocide in the Congo was never something I could ever imagine. That’s why she understood the power of family and love while I was in a haze, lost in my suburban, sheltered society. There is a reason why her sister has no leg and why her family had to flee. As she told me her family’s story in my safe backyard, I pictured her running away. The fear and torture lurking around every corner. To listen to what she had listened to, to see what she had seen, to feel what she had felt, are concepts a white New Englander doesn’t imagine every day. After I finished talking with her, emotions hit me hard. This experience helped me to realize just how connected we as people are to each other and with that realization came unexpected emotions. I went up to my pink bedroom, looked at my bed and my ceiling, all my clothes, and even the half eaten apple that was sitting on my desk, and I started to cry. I cried for Bintu, my sister from a different world. I cried for her real family and I cried for everyone else living life like she had. I cried for the happiness I had found in my life and how incredibly lucky I was to be living in such luxury. But, what captured my emotions the most was the love that girl had for my family even though she had so much sadness weighing on her shoulders. Coming to America only speaking French and Swahili can only get you so far, so my mother became her English teacher and we became her “American family.” She called my mom her mom, my dad her dad, and I was her sister and she was mine. When she called me her sister, I realized how connected every human being is to the one other. We laughed at the same jokes and cried when we watched cheesy romance movies. We both strove for the same goals and we both knew how to be bored. I am white and blonde and she is an African princess, yet we are linked together. Linked with the truth that we humans live on the same Earth, have similar thoughts, and can impact one another with our differences. As I watched her leave to go back out into the world, away from our conformity, I made sure to say, “Goodbye, Sister” and wave with my white hand to my black sister who has shown me the smallness of the world.