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On Our Way Home

I wiped my nose and put my hands in my coat pockets. I could feel my fingers slowly freezing to the point that they started to burn. The smell was not so pleasant but I still walked slowly so my mom wouldn’t be walking alone. I took her hand and we made our way through the dark, cold alley.

The snowflakes felt like little ninja knives flying into my face, but I didn’t mind as long as the most important person in my life was by my side. We made our way up the slippery stairs that felt like an ice arena—the only thing missing were ice skates.

My mom slowly started turning the keys, and I could see that she could barely feel her fingers, too. As she opened the door, I felt my face get warmer.

Stomp, stomp, stomp.

We stomped our feet one by one on the carpet so no snow or salt would get on the shiny floor of our new home. I couldn’t believe it, but we’d made it.As we took off our coats, my mom proudly said, “Welcome to America, kids."

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