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Far From Home

Some young Mexican artists find a place for themselves in choreographer Charlotte Boye-Christensen’s Lost



Page 6 of 6

I Remember
By Marisela Perez

I remember when my mom used to be here. I could always hear the screams and the fighting. Because she didn’t make the food exactly how he liked it. Fights over simple things that soon became big arguments. Now she’s gone and she may never come back. It’s all too late to try and fix. Not even a sorry coming straight from my heart will make it right.

I remember when I was unhappy, although I still am. I appreciate every new day of sunlight. Every new day I get to make things right.

I remember when my dad used to ask me how I was. We used to talk about basketball and sports. Now he’s too busy, or maybe he doesn’t care. Too much on his mind already. I don’t think he cares who won the last game at the Staples Center.

I remember when I used to cry because I didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. When I felt alone and would rather go read a book at the library than to sit and gossip with the other girls at lunch.

I remember when I had a “familia.” Even if it was only for some time. I had a refuge after coming home from school.

I remember when we used to eat together. When my mom would make caldo when the day was gloomy. And we would always pray for the meal each day. I would of never guessed it would one day come to an end.

I remember when I went to the new school. How bad I hated it. How they would stare because my color was prettier. Now I thank God I stayed. I’ve learned to appreciate myself. I appreciate my dad and everything he does to keep me there. So many gifts now are in the darkness. But eventually they will come out and shine.