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One Moment Equals One Change (By Anaisha Choudhary, 11 years old)

It was October 15th, 2021, 6 AM, a school day for most. I woke up at a family friend’s home. Today was the day I’d no longer be living in Canada, the place I lived for nine years. Back at the house, my siblings, (my baby brother, and sister) and parents were awake. We headed home in the car, which wasn’t even a 30-second drive! I knew this devastating day would come, although I never wanted it even to exist.

I clutched my enormous suitcases, along with my orange backpack. “Kill me now,” I thought. Only a few days ago I believed that moving would offer me a fresh new start, with infinite chances, but all of a sudden I didn’t feel like putting these changes into my life. After the endless days I had spent exhaustedly packing my suitcases, I wanted one of those “getaway” trips to Mexico. Just reminiscing and taking a sip of lemonade made my reality peaceful. Time flew, and soon enough I was back at my family friend’s home.

I munched quietly on my scrumptious waffle, drizzled with maple syrup, pondering the thought of moving. Soaring anticipation of airplanes and moving fogged my brain like a rainy cloud. I walked back home, with a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. I took a peek into our home. Our realtor walked in a professional style throughout the home, with his hands behind his back along with a friendly smile.

I entered our home and took a few glances. This was the home that contained both misery and friendship, both anger and laughter. “Ding-dong,” I opened the door, looked at the floor, immediately knew the shoes that I saw, and raised my head. I spotted a girl with blond hair, it was one of my friends Chloe. Chloe handed me an aesthetic charm bracelet. Each charm represents something related to Canada or something that’s meaningful to me and relates to some of the bewildering memories in Canada.

A moment or two after Chloe had left, I spotted a gallant car. Each time I stepped closer, each time I recognized it even more. A thought hit me “Maria!” (another friend from the neighborhood). My legs hauled me towards the car. Maria and her brother generously handed me a gift bag, containing bright red glowing gummies, and a gorgeous notebook with the word, dream, written in bold and golden which rapidly caught my eye. The gift also included a ballpoint mermaid pen, stamps, and a glimmering-silver frame with an elegant picture of my best friends (in the neighborhood) and me. My mouth blurted, “Thank you.” “Have a safe flight😁! Best of luck🤞,” Maria’s mother kindly responded.

Most people describe me as an emotional person, and I won’t argue. As I held onto the gift bag, a tear dripped down my delicate cheek. A trillion “why” questions surrounded me. Instantaneously, a flashback from SpongeBob struck me. I visualized SpongeBob yelling “WHY.”

I headed back to Sanvi’s, our family friend, home.

The minute I arrived my sister told me, “I accidentally misplaced your writing notebook.”

“I know, you already —” I spoke without listening correctly.

“WAIT! WHAT DID YOU DO?” I glared at her.

Without waiting for a reply “Excuse me,” I said. I ran upstairs and screamed into a pillow. The notebook contained two of my favorite stories!

Afterward, a couple of my dad’s friends came in each of their cars. We loaded our suitcases and backpacks. I stared into the radiant sky, not knowing if I’d ever return to the same home again. Canada was the place that contained my years of education until grade six. Calgary was where my sister and brother were born, and where I first held them in my arms. I turned my head to the left, a minor chuckle fell out of my mouth,

“Ha, ha,” as I glanced at my sister tickling my baby brother.

An instant later, my dad took a seat in one car, while the other was filled with my mom, sister, brother, and me. It was time to set my fears away and begin a new adventure.

After what seemed like an eternity, we reached our destination. The hardest parts were getting our suitcases inside, and finding the USA section. We consecutively had three rounds back to the car to gather all of our suitcases.

“Debilitating” I complained while doing a dramatic fainting motion on top of my clothing suitcase followed by a sigh.

A couple of hours later, I collapsed with exhaustion on a chair in the boarding area.

“Are you excited?” my sister frowned.

“Of course, I am,” I sarcastically exclaimed, while squinting my eyes and speaking in a high pitch.

I thought about all the things I would lose.

“My friends, my home,” I thought.

“Poutine,” I exclaimed.

“What?” my sister questioned.

“N-n-nothing,” I stammered.

Poutine, my favorite food of all nourishment, wasn’t going to be in America. I buried my head in my hands, devastated. I had heard from one of my cousins that Tim Hortons (one of my favorite restaurants) wasn’t in Naperville either.

“Uugh,” I quietly groaned.

I turned my head to the right as I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“It’s time to board the airplane,” my mom said.

“Coming,” I whispered.

I looked back before going inside, my life was going to change, and I was going to learn to accommodate based on society.



A message pops up on my screen, making the words “Sy @ school 😁.” I text my BFF a thumbs-up emoji.


I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, thinking about moving to Lisle from Naperville and leaving my best friends. I opened the car door and waved bye to my father. A grin appears on his face. I looked at my phone, it’d only been two minutes, and I had thirty-two messages I hadn’t seen, my eyes instantly widened. Sluggishly I walked toward the cafeteria, where I met my two best friends. I thought about the day I first came to Naperville, and what’s happening right now. If I could adapt to moving countries, I was positive moving to Lisle would be alright. I looked toward my friends and remembered how they supported me through every hard moment.

“Moving is a simple thing, what it leaves behind is hard.”

I wasn’t ready, but life moves on by itself. It doesn’t wait for you. No matter what comes into your life, enjoy every single moment, because you never know what adventure or sadness will occur tomorrow.

Just like Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.”

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