Friday, March 21, 2008

la prima posta (first post)

So this is the World of Blogging: a venture into the viewpoints of others. But I also don't forget the Soapbox laid before me. I'm tentatively (yes, not definite) working on writing a story of my life and my family. You're probably thinking, "Isn't everyone?" And you're probably right. Because of the wonderful avenue of Blogging, I'm going to take advantage and post excerpts from those writings. Lucky you.


I suppose my first post should probably explain where I'm coming from...


"A Laotian, born in West Texas from a 16-year-old child,

At 2 days old, I was adopted. From an early age, I knew I was chosen…chosen as a first-born, chosen as an answer to prayer, chosen as a beautifully blessed being. It was a charmed life.

At 2 years old, my world expanded by 2…twin brothers. I fed them dirt from my pretend kitchen in our backyard. Although I never made them eat the worms. Those were gross. They loved their big sister dearly. Our pretend world continued on in the great indoors as well. As they sat in their highchairs, I cut their hair just like a Barber. They loved me even more. Mom wasn’t amused.

At 4 years old, I got a little girl…a sister! She too was a China doll, actually a Korean doll. She had eyes like mine, and a cute-button-nose too. We didn’t talk much, but I got to dress her like my dolls and she would stare at me in wonder.

Then “Out in the West Texas Town of El”...MIDLAND, we moved across the state to the East Texas Piney Woods of Tyler. It was green and lush, and really sticky and hot. Our neighbors were cool, big-kids…they were my idols. They could teach me how to climb the lattice awning that screamed of jungle gym above our backyard patio.

By the age of 5, I had my first bite of public education: Kindergarten. It was an educating experience indeed. The end of my first day, my parents stood on the sidewalk videotaping the bus ride return. The video reel goes something like this: The bus slowly approaches from the right...the bus drove up to the house…the bus drove by the house and kept going… It didn’t stop. It just drove by. I learned you’re supposed to tell the bus driver where you live. Didn’t he know?

A short time later, our family grew again. He was the cutest little guy; always wide-eyed in awe. Maybe this time we wouldn't feed him dirt, nor cut his hair, nor dress him up...maybe. And then there were 7."