"Gabriella, where are you going?" called my mother, I knew my mother would continue calling my name until i answered, but I could not wait the excitement was too much.I leapt off the plane and raced my mother to the airport door. As I walked out the doors, a sense of home struck my body.I began to breathe in the musty, hustler, methodical air of New York City. Finally at last, I had returned home. I felt the power of the blazing taxis and taxi men calling out to people to enter their cars. "Taxi Service! Get Your Taxi Service!" I felt a smile creep upon my lips. My mother stood there, knowing why her daughter was smiling, because she was also in awe of the city that first welcomed her into America.But as I began to walk the streets of my once home, a sense of sadness came upon me as I looked at the unfortunate souls, begging for money to feed their jaded bodies.As I look around my hometown I realized that I was a foreigner in the land that once called home, the city had an old, but new feeling to it.

You ain’t from around here? Why do you look lost, Have you even been around these streets before. Excuse me young lady, but do you have some spare change. We hungry! We Cold!
"Gabriella come here! Honey it’s cold”, but I could not let go of what the homeless people said to me.As we walked into the Renaissance Hotel, I looked back at the folks on the street and I felt a sense of shame. My mother was in the bath washing up, I sat on her bedside and looked up to the ceiling. Before I realized my mind was replaying what the homeless people where asking me in the street.I took a moment and thought about the question that they asked me and wondered why it hurt. My mother had come out of the bath to see that my mind was troubling me, so she came by my side and placed her hand on my heart.It was as if the hand of God had touched me."Now get some rest" my mother said, "we have a long day set up filled with memories and happiness” While I fell asleep, I held onto the last words my mother had sid to me about how amazing our day in the City will be.

"Gibbs wake up it’s 9:30 we got to go eat breakfast and start our day." I felt my stomach cry and so I got up and headed towards the door to meet up with my mother.We went down stairs into the dining room where breakfast was being starved “ Ma’am are thoses hulk shape waffles" as I called the hotel worker she said yes, we make them every Tuesday morning. I grabbed about ten stakes After breakfast, we started our day off and by walking the streets of New York. "Wow it’s all so busy, yet beautiful", I said while admiring the men and women in suits with their cellphones in one hand, and their briefcases in the other, calling for a taxi cab.This had me thinking about how back in Phoenix there aren’t people running for a taxi. I even came to the conclusion that there were not a lot of taxis in the area of Phoenix where I lived. It amazes me because I forgot how busy the streets of N.Y.C is, with workers just trying to find transportation.

My mother asked me where is the best place I wanted to go see I told her “ Take me Home” My mother looked at me for a moment, tearfully happy, I told her that I wanted to go back and see my first home where my siblings and I grow up. My mother looked into my eyes and said “of course”. As we started on our way we took the metro train and headed down to the north side of town. What I didn’t know very well was that Queens Jamaica was the ghetto. "Did we stop”, I asked "Is this where I grew up?" my mother said yes.I got out of the train and started to walk around my old neighborhood. The floors were cracked , the houses were all fading away.The people on the street looked at me in envy, they saw what they imaged their lives would be if they got out of the ghetto. My mother told me " almost there honey” so we kept following the path. During my walk I felt has if I was David preparing myself to face Goliath. Finally I saw my mother stop in front of a petite house, there it was. "Can I go inside" I asked, my mother said "yes of course go in". As I walked onto the front steps my knees became weak. I open the door, and immediately my heart suck to the bottom of my feet.I looked around the house and could not image how my parents fit ten people in this one story home. I turn to my as we leave and say “ thank you for your sacrifice I never understood.” We walked away and said our goodbyes to my home and continued to walk the streets of Queens Jamaica. We walked back to the metro train, I saw the children who where still stuck here, they are called the “children of the ghetto”. Sadly enough it was time for me to head back to the hotel and pack up.

As I walked back into the airport I stoped at the door and take a deep breath of the metallic air and a smile cans uo my lips like first time I had arrived home as if it where saying thank you. As we were on the plane the words that the homeless people spoke to me sinked in.I realized I was lost because I didn’t know my hone anymore. I had become an Arizonian who was fortunate enough to offer a better lifestyle.As I realized tha N.Y. was an old lifetime nd this was my new one. I promised from this day forward to never complain about about my unfortunate circumstances. I am grateful for this journey because it taught me that just because we are born in unfortunate situations it doesn’t mean that I have to dweal on it,I can make something out of. My parents now raise there kids on the streets of 67th and Happy Valley Phoenix Arizona. Where the sun shines like no tomorrow and the cars are as white as pearls.