The place a long away from home. New city, new faces, and the place where I would live for the next five years of my life. Kids were screaming and crying everywhere; nannies running after kids and screaming for them to get ready for bed.

It was scary. Even scarier than trying to protect myself from my mother before she grabbed a wooden stick or her old torn up shoe to punish me with. This place made me feel something I had never felt before. It was the feeling of fear, confusion, anger, and guilt all mixed up inside of my chest. A feeling that I thought would last forever.
This new orphanage seemed even worse than the school with the scary uniformed policeman that never seemed to smile. Although, somehow I missed the school with the scary policemen that never smiled. But how could this be? How could I miss the school that I was afraid of or the house where I tried avoiding as much as I could because I was too afraid that somehow something was going to be my fault and I might be punished for it. How could this be a true feeling?

By the time I got to the orphanage, what seemed like endless kids were preparing themselves for another crazy adventure at school. They gathered their tiny backpacks and walked up in an orderly fashioned line. Kids seemed and looked like sweet angels with their perfect fit uniforms walking up the long stairs of the orphanage. There waited a bus that was to take the what seemed to be well-behaved kids to school.

After the kids left for school, I was alone in the house that I was assigned to. I felt so much pain inside of me, a kind of pain that I had never felt before, a kind of pain that I had never thought of, a kind of pain that can destroy a child's heart.

As I tried to cry my fear away, the young and gentle caretaker asked if I would like to help her feed the young babies. I wanted to calm myself down and stop crying so I told her I would like to help her. But how could feeding babies help me forget that I might not see my family again, or keep me from wondering what might happen tomorrow? It did not.

During the first night, there were countless questions, and thoughts going through my head, but I felt as if no one was there to answer them or listen to the crazy thoughts of a seven-year-old. I was always angry with the adults at the orphanage because they told me that everything was going to be ok. Just because I was a seven-year-old quiet girl did not mean that I didn’t understand what was going on. I did understand, more than they thought. Was everything really going to be ok? I didn’t think so, but I was wrong.

I spent a long time in this orphanage. I learned to love it and I made it my home. Although that did not last forever. My last year there I knew it was going to be the last. I knew this because I and my friends figured out that every time they called someone to take their picture, they had found a family for them. For me, that time had come my fourth year. As the workers took my pictures I could not wait to see who my family was going to be. My body was filled with excitement and curiosity. When I did find out who my new family was going to be, I think I was the happiest child in the world.

Bad things happen in life, but those bad things lead to great miracles. God placed all these events and journeys in my life for the greater good. Now I have the best friend anyone could ask for. Siblings whom I love, and great parents who teach me life lessons and guide me through my young teenage life. I could never ask for more.