Life is Full of Choices
BY: BEATRIZ FERREIRA
Images by Winta Assefa
It all started with this crazy idea that my dad had. However, before I share this crazy idea I would like to talk a bit about how my life was before it all changed.
It all started in Brazil, the place I was born. I was born into a middle class family and my life was surrounded by them. Before I turned seven years old my family was all I knew, all I needed to know. On Fridays I would get home from school and leave to go to my grandparents or my Dinda’s house and I would stay there until Sunday. This went on for as long as I can remember. After I turned seven my weekends were a little different, because that year my parents found Christ. We always called ourselves Catholics but we didn’t go to church until one day my dad got invited to a church and we went as a family. This church was different and really allowed my parents to build a true relationship with Christ. I loved going to church. It was fun and I loved it because my parents loved it. I believed because my parents’ faith shaped my faith. And so this is what my life was like in Brazil. I had school through the week and on weekends I balanced my life with family and church. I loved that life, I loved the comfort and the love that came with it.
~~
I was at my Dinda’s house and we were having BBQ when suddenly my Dindo remembered that he had a soccer match with his friends later in the afternoon and my dad had the ‘great’ idea to go. Don’t get me wrong, my dad is athletic but not soccer athletic. He loves the gym, like he could spend the whole day working out and be happy, but again — not soccer athletic. Anyways, while the wives and kids were at home talking, eating, swimming and even dancing, they were out playing soccer.
Our fun was interrupted by a very loud voice coming from my Dindo, my dad’s best friend since they were 7 years old, “Me ajuda a colocar ele em uma cadeira!”
My mom and Dinda said, “O que que aconteceu?”
My dad said “Ah só um cara do meu time que me chutou na canela e ainda está doendo. Mas eu só preciso descansar o pé um pouco e depois vou me sentir melhor.”
A week later, he went to the hospital and found out that his achilles ruptured. I have no idea how he endured the pain for that long, even the doctor was surprised. But that is just my dad being my dad.
Because of this he had to stay home for 6 months, but after 4 months he was out again. Throughout these months he was bored and so he started to watch YouTube. At the time, many people in Brazil were sharing their experiences of leaving the country and coming to live in Canada. They shared the many opportunities that Canada provided for their children and how it was a good country to live in. This spiked my parents' curiosity, especially when Brazil’s corruption was only getting worse, making the country unstable and unsafe. When I was in Brazil our lives consisted of surviving and not living. Not only that but I rarely saw my dad because he was constantly working so we could survive.
Fast-forward to a few months later my dad prepared himself to go to Canada. That was 2016 and he went there to work and see the place for himself while my mom, my brother and I stayed in Brazil. With him gone was a weird experience. At first I was fine because I was used to not seeing my dad a lot. He constantly worked and I could only see him 2-3 times per week. It got harder on the days I would normally see him. We used to call him everyday. He stayed in Canada for a month and when he came back he said that he loved the place and thought it would be a great place for us to live. And that's what we did. We prepared ourselves for almost 2 years before we finally came.
The start of our new lives. In Brazil I was familiar, I was confident, I had all the friends that I thought I needed. I was doing great in my classes, I loved going to my grandma's house every single weekend and I loved the food. When I came to Canada everything was unfamiliar, strange, different, scary but also exciting. It took me a long time to realize that this wasn’t a long vacation but that this was our new reality. When school started I was just so scared and estranged from the place, the environment, and everything. Don’t get me wrong, everyone was kind to me and tried to help me the best they could, and I know this isn’t everyone’s story but I was still feeling alone and scared and there was nothing they could do to fix that. I had to fix this.
The distance and the newness of everything just made me homesick but I didn’t want to leave Canada. Brazil wasn’t my home anymore, but then again neither was Canada…yet. I wanted what I had in Brazil in Canada. I took it upon myself to learn the language as fast as I could, because I thought this would be what would get me to fit in and to feel the way I was before in Brazil. That girl who could express herself well, who was able to be funny and was smart for her age. I wasn’t that girl anymore and I could see that when I looked in the mirror. It was like staring at a stranger, the girl on the other side of the mirror was so unknown to me that I despised her. This happened every..single..time I looked in the mirror. I played it off because my parents had much more things to do than to worry about me. Plus I knew one day I would come around. It would just take a while, at least that’s what I would tell myself. My parents sacrificed everything for me, the least I could do is to work hard to fit in and work my way through school.
I learned the language in five months, but I still felt off, the odd one out. Everyone in my grade had their own friend group and they already knew each other since kindergarten. I felt like I was an intruder looking for a place to invade. I worked hard, studied monday to monday, always learning new words and things, plus I aced every test in ESL but still felt behind everyone. This feeling just grew and slowly it felt like I was losing who I was. I couldn’t recognize my reflection in the mirror.
Not only did I change but everything else did too. The food was different even though my mom cooked Brazilian food, it tasted different. I didn't go to a Brazilian church anymore, it was Portuguese. The culture, the norms were different. I didn't spend my weekend watching soccer with my cousins, I spent it studying in my room alone or babysitting my little sister.
I felt hopeless and lost. I felt horrible to be feeling this way when my parents worked so hard for us to get here, that I started to see how much faith it took them to do all this too. I realized that I never really gave God a chance. I knew of Him but not Him. I desperately needed help and I have always heard what a good helper He is so I gave it a try. I can’t lose something that hasn’t been found yet. That decision was and still is the best decision I have ever made. Getting to know God for myself has been a journey nothing else can compare.
Translations:
Dindo/a: Godfather and Godmother
"Me ajuda a colocar ele em uma cadeira!”: Help me put him in the chair
“O que que aconteceu?”: What happened?
“Ah só um cara do meu time que me chutou na canela e ainda está doendo. Mas eu só preciso descansar o pé um pouco e depois vou me sentir melhor.”: A guy from my team kicked me and my ankle is hurting. But I just need to rest it a little and after I will feel better.
📣 What Did You Think?
Your reaction helps us choose the top story of the month and gives the writer some well-deserved love.
Tap a reaction below to tell us how the story made you feel:
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hi, my name is Beatriz Ferreira. I was born in Brazil and I am a grade 12 student of St. Joseph Morrow Park C.S.S. I am someone who loves to read and recently has found a passion for writing. My faith is the guiding force in my life, and it is always inspiring me to be light in the world. I love learning new things and perfecting a skill. My favourite thing to do is to spend time with my family and friends.
