She was a lady of actions not words. I spent more time at her house than I did at my own. Her house never smelled of hunger and sadness. She wasn’t the richest but I never did feel poor around her. She has become the most significant person in my life and has made me the person I am today.
Although her left eye is a little bit tinier than her right, she defines perfection. Her hair is black with hints of gray. Her skin is as brown as the beans she boiled and as soft as petals on the roses she grew. She has eyes that speak for her emotions and sun kisses from all the hard work she’s been put through. She’s not ashamed of her age spots and wears very minimal makeup. Although she suffers from arthritis and has bad knees you can never find her sitting down unless she has a bible in front of her. She gives the best hugs and the softest kisses.
She is the reason I smile at so many of my early childhood memories. When I was five I tore open my knee playing in her backyard and she held my hand as the doctor gave me stiches. When I turned six she scolded my uncle for pushing my head into my birthday cake and making me cry (after laughing). And when I turned 8 and was hospital bound for an entire week, she stayed with me every night. She gave me my first rosary and held my hand when I prayed my first prayer. Every morning she woke the roosters up and made me breakfast and every night she’d turn off the T.V. to make me go to sleep. Although my home had air conditioning and hers didn’t, I always preferred staying with her. I used to think that she wouldn’t sleep, because she was always awake before I was. I spent most if not all of my early childhood with her. However, there was a time between six and eight P.M. that she would pinch me with her toes if I tried to lay next to her as she was trying to watch her show. But after each episode she would give me pieces of yellow candy she had saved in her cupboard. When I was 11, she told me that the man that lived in front of her place was crazy so that I wouldn’t try to ride my bike in the street. Once, I was stranded at my aunt’s house without any communication with my family, and she was the first to hug me once I returned after being the missing child they alerted the cops about. My early childhood years were my favorite, because she is the reason I have so many memories to smile about. Although she loved me she hated attending any of my sporting events. It was not until the time she did go that I understood why. She attended one of my soccer games and witnessed me face plant in turf. She …show more content…
I understood her more. Although she never told me what it means to work hard, when I was a freshman in high school and she explained her life story to me I knew that she was the definition of the kind of person I want to work hard to become. She explained to me without shedding a single tear, how she lost her husband and two sons. She explained to how she got the scars on her hands and the callus on her feet. She raised twelve kids all on her own and worked in the fields every day to provide what was necessary for them. At that moment, I knew she was the strongest person I ever met.
My grandma is the most important person in my life today. She has laughed with me. She has cried with me. She has scolded me, and she has grown with me. She continues to mold me into the woman I aspire to be. She has the heart of a warrior and the soul of a saint. I love her with everything I got and I know that I can always turn to her for anything. She has prepared me to conquer the world and because of her no obstacle will ever be too big. My abuela is the reason I am the person I am
Although her left eye is a little bit tinier than her right, she defines perfection. Her hair is black with hints of gray. Her skin is as brown as the beans she boiled and as soft as petals on the roses she grew. She has eyes that speak for her emotions and sun kisses from all the hard work she’s been put through. She’s not ashamed of her age spots and wears very minimal makeup. Although she suffers from arthritis and has bad knees you can never find her sitting down unless she has a bible in front of her. She gives the best hugs and the softest kisses.
She is the reason I smile at so many of my early childhood memories. When I was five I tore open my knee playing in her backyard and she held my hand as the doctor gave me stiches. When I turned six she scolded my uncle for pushing my head into my birthday cake and making me cry (after laughing). And when I turned 8 and was hospital bound for an entire week, she stayed with me every night. She gave me my first rosary and held my hand when I prayed my first prayer. Every morning she woke the roosters up and made me breakfast and every night she’d turn off the T.V. to make me go to sleep. Although my home had air conditioning and hers didn’t, I always preferred staying with her. I used to think that she wouldn’t sleep, because she was always awake before I was. I spent most if not all of my early childhood with her. However, there was a time between six and eight P.M. that she would pinch me with her toes if I tried to lay next to her as she was trying to watch her show. But after each episode she would give me pieces of yellow candy she had saved in her cupboard. When I was 11, she told me that the man that lived in front of her place was crazy so that I wouldn’t try to ride my bike in the street. Once, I was stranded at my aunt’s house without any communication with my family, and she was the first to hug me once I returned after being the missing child they alerted the cops about. My early childhood years were my favorite, because she is the reason I have so many memories to smile about. Although she loved me she hated attending any of my sporting events. It was not until the time she did go that I understood why. She attended one of my soccer games and witnessed me face plant in turf. She …show more content…
I understood her more. Although she never told me what it means to work hard, when I was a freshman in high school and she explained her life story to me I knew that she was the definition of the kind of person I want to work hard to become. She explained to me without shedding a single tear, how she lost her husband and two sons. She explained to how she got the scars on her hands and the callus on her feet. She raised twelve kids all on her own and worked in the fields every day to provide what was necessary for them. At that moment, I knew she was the strongest person I ever met.
My grandma is the most important person in my life today. She has laughed with me. She has cried with me. She has scolded me, and she has grown with me. She continues to mold me into the woman I aspire to be. She has the heart of a warrior and the soul of a saint. I love her with everything I got and I know that I can always turn to her for anything. She has prepared me to conquer the world and because of her no obstacle will ever be too big. My abuela is the reason I am the person I am