A personal memoir by Sophia
see the airplane towering over my petite seven year old figure. I glance behind me. There is
Mama carrying my baby sister Valeria. Behind her is Papa with the backpacks (as usual).
Unsurely, I place my foot onto the first metal step. Then the second, third, fourth, and finally the
fifth. Here I am. The journey that will turn my life around forever. At the top, I am greeted by
the Uzbek stewardess. Mumbling a reply back, my eyes scan the airplane for seat 25D. My
favorite seat by the window. There it is. The plane starts to move just as I sit down.
My eyes are swimming with tears. All the tears I have not yet cried out of my body. I
remember the happenings of yesterday. At school, the teachers and students held a little farewell
ceremony for me. Many small gifts were given to me so I would have something to remember
the people who shaped me into the person who I am today. Not that I needed anything to
remember them by. But still, the thing that touches my heart the most is when my friends
produced a photo album full of pictures of me and them together. They tried hard not to cry. But
in the end there was a peculiar sight on the school grounds. Seven girls clinging to each other,
My thoughts are rudely interrupted by the stewardess announcing take off. I had missed
the safety explanations. Never mind. I don’t listen to them anyway. I hear the low rumbling of
the plane. My ears start to feel the air pressure. I really want them to pop. Wanting to see
Tashkent for the last time, I look out the window. The houses are shrinking. So are the streets,
the cars, the avenues, and the windows. Now, the city looks like a toy town. The pedestrians are
ants. The trees are green specks. Mama sees the tears in my eyes after Tashkent fades away.
Stroking my hair, she starts telling me a story. My eyes grow tired and I put my head on Mama’s
lap. Her hands are soft and comforting. Soon I stop crying and listen to her story. It is my
favorite about the squirrel, the mice, and the strawberry jam. Mama stops in the middle of the
story. She hears the light sound of snoring. I was asleep.