Going back to China

By Erya, Age 11

The sound of planes whizzing over my head reminds me of our trip to China next
week. I try to think of happier thoughts, like having a play date
with my friend tomorrow.
“Can’t we just stay and not go to china?” I whine, my thoughts overpowering myself
”Erya,” Mama replies softly, ”we’ve already told you, it’s not our decision, we don’t want
to move either.”
“Fine” I grumble. I close my eyes and try to imagine me in China, walking in a mall with
MILLIONS of people. I shake my head, if only we could stay here a little longer.

“Today is the Day!” Papa exclaims, startling me.
I rubbed my eyes, “Where are we going?”
“To China!”
“Oh yeah, right.” I slump my shoulders and slowly walk towards my suitcase. As if time
actually flew past, we were at the airport in a second. Mama stuffed us into thick
protective equipment and we were off. I cannot describe the craziness and confusion
that came after, but I know one thing for sure: even though I love China as my home
country, but I will never forget the happiness that America has brought me.