Migrant

I am a migrant. I'm one of the lucky ones: I was not forced to leave my country, I didn't scape famine, poverty, war, or tyranny. I left, with the full support of my family, to live, and learn, and grow, and get a job that I love. I left to live my dream.

I am a lucky migrant. In more than ten years away from my home land, I have never been discriminated, or downgraded. I have been accepted, given an opportunity, and handled to it with all my heart. I made that place my home away from home. A land that I love and cherish, even though I will never forget my dear Mexico, with all its issues; with all its beauty.

As life is, I'll migrate again. Settle anew, start anew, grow once more. I will continue the circle of life.

I am a migrant, one of the very few lucky ones. I chose to migrate, I have always been welcomed, and given an opportunity.

I wish all migrants were as lucky as me; never escaping famine, or war, or tyranny. Always received with open arms. Always given a change to prove their worth for those who accept them. Unfortunately, we cannot stop wars, famine, or tyranny. People will always flee their lands to survive. But the very least we can do is to receive them, let them show us what they have to offer, give them the chance to live their own dreams.

I am a migrant, a very lucky migrant, and wish all migrants to be as lucky as me.