I stared at the walls of the boat, the floor rocking back and forth underneath me. I was sailing to my future home, where I would be reunited with my brother and start a new life, different from the poverty I lived in during the late 1800s England.

I scanned the people around me, their eyes glimmering in a way that seemed to size me up, determining my weaknesses. They were desperate, hungry people, people who would do anything for the slightest bit of food, like steal my hard-earned money. I thought back to the shakily scrawled letter my brother wrote to me, almost a decade ago, when he first reached the coast of the United States.

They have robbed me of everything; I have to start over from the very beginning.

I was determined not to let that happen to me.

A sudden shout snapped me out of my thoughts. Everyone rushed forward, and once I caught up with the one word everyone was whispering, I quickly stumbled to my feet and joined the surging crowd on the ship's deck.

Land.

The relief coursing through me as I realized we were almost done with the journey was quickly repelled by my realization that that was where my troubles would begin. According to my brother, thieves would be waiting to rob new immigrants of their meager life savings, leaving them without money in a new world. My smile faded.

Finally, the boat docked, allowing us to step onto land. The crowd gradually moved forward, entering the large building. I was just barely able to make out the letters announcing that the building was named “Castle Garden”. 

I walked through the hallway, surrounded by the people I had shared a boat with for months. Their usually tired faces were split with wide smiles, and some had tears of happiness trailing down their cheeks. 

The openly relieved faces made me see them in a different light. I had always been so worried about them stealing my money that it had never occurred to me that they were just trying to survive like I was.

I finally began to feel at ease when a voice made me jump.

“Hello, and welcome to Castle Garden.” A man stepped out of the shadows, carrying a lantern. “Congratulations on making it to the United States. Please follow me.”

I unwillingly followed the man into the depths of the building. Where was he taking us? It was all so different from what I had expected based on my brother’s experience. I had anticipated a seemingly empty port coated in shadows that came alive with thieves who saw me as a free bag of money. My adrenaline at finally reaching land and preparing for meeting the robbers was replaced with nervous curiosity.

The man stopped at a room and gestured for us to head inside. When we had all assembled, he told us we would be individually examined and asked questions.

We stood in the dark room as my tense muscles finally relaxed. I had not been immediately robbed of everything I owned upon arriving, like I had thought would happen. I would be questioned and allowed to leave. I breathed a sigh of relief as the man entered and we were called out of the room one by one. When it was my turn, instead of the nervousness I was expecting would engulf me, I only felt relief that the process was almost over.

After a brief questioning about my background, I made my way out and clutched my money and belongings, waiting for the train to take me to my brother’s house. Everything had turned out so much better than what I had expected. Instead of thieves, I was met with Castle Garden, ensuring I had a chance to make a better life in the new country I had immigrated to.