Personal Narrative: Traveling To Mexico With My Father
This winter break I had the opportunity to travel to Mexico with my father. An experience that I hadn't shared with him in over nine years. I, however had been traveling to Mexico with my mother and brother every summer since I was in diapers.
As we arrived in Michoacan, Mexico I noticed my father was being very reserved staring at colonial buildings of the plaza and searching for familiar faces. When we arrived at my grandma's house, his timid exterior was replaced by a wide smile. A smile that flourished from his childhood memories, from the people he loved and grew with. A smile that I understood because I too was fond of the country that my parent's were born in.
I may have been born in the United States, but I too smile at the sight
As we arrived in Michoacan, Mexico I noticed my father was being very reserved staring at colonial buildings of the plaza and searching for familiar faces. When we arrived at my grandma's house, his timid exterior was replaced by a wide smile. A smile that flourished from his childhood memories, from the people he loved and grew with. A smile that I understood because I too was fond of the country that my parent's were born in.
I may have been born in the United States, but I too smile at the sight