What Happened to my doll?

My Family 1975 , first family picture ever taken 

    In 1974 my parents, like many families of the Azores applied for visa to immigrate to either the United States or Canada. Mom's family lived in Canada, dad's family lived in America. Immigrating was the desire of many families as an opportunity to improve the life of their families. The first visa to be accepted was to The United States of America.

My parents sold their house to come up with the money that it would cost to bring us to this better land. Mom bought some material and made us all a new outfits. They purchased the plane tickets and packed two suit cases. This is all they would take with them other than those pretty new outfits and new shoes that we would wear so that we could look nice when we arrived in America.

On January 31, 1975 the taxi came to pick us up to take us to the airport in Ponta Delgada where we would board an airplane and leave everything my parents knew. They were taking us to the land of opportunity and a better life. Dad was 39 years old, mom 34 . They packed up their 7 children, Cidalia 14, Luis 13, Olivia 8, Joe 6, Eduardo 4, Nelia 3, and I was 9 years old. What a brave move to pick up and move your family with two suitcases and the clothes on your back. My fathers family were waiting for us and my uncle would pick us up at the airport and take us to my Aunt Gloriana's home. She and her husband had an apartment ready for us in a home that they owned, but mom and dad would have to find work right away to pay rent and support their family. They had no skills and didn't speak the language. It takes guts and courage to make this move, but mostly it took the desire to give your family a better life.

That Christmas, Christmas of 1974, we were able to see Saint Nicholas for the first time at an event where my father worked for the power company. It was so exciting, we were all dressed up in our Sunday clothes to go meet Saint Nicholas who was going to give us our Christmas gift. Prior to that year, we knew about Saint Nicholas, but we had never met him. Every year on Christmas eve we would decorate the chimney and put out a sock or shoe in hopes that St. Nicholas would leave us a gift while we were at midnight mass.

Christmas eve was a big celebration as we celebrated the birth of Jesus. After decorating, mom would cook and then we would all dress and walk to church for midnight mass. Dad would always have to run home. When we came home from midnight mass, we would find our gift from saint Nicholas in that sock. Our gift might be a piece of fruit , gum, a whistle, small toy, or a balloon; but that year I got to meet saint Nicholas at that party and I got my very first real doll. She was beautiful. I carried that doll with me for my journey to America.

I would not be able to travel with my doll once we were on the airplane. You see, my sister Nelia was 3 years old, so she did not want to be on the airplane, she cried that she wanted to go home, but she would quiet down if she could play with my doll. So I was ordered to give my little sister my doll to play with so that she would settle down. She had her own doll, we all got a new doll, but she wanted mine.

Nelia, age 3

It wasn't until we were walking through Logan airport; in this strange, scary, and big exciting place with lots of people and lights that I asked my sister to give me back my doll. She gave me my doll, but the doll did not have a head. She had pulled her head off and left part of my beautiful doll on the airplane never to be seen again. I Loved my beautiful baby sister more than I could ever imagine and its a good thing I loved her, because I have never forgotten that she be-headed my doll.

It was a time of excitement, fear, tears, and happiness. My parents sacrificed so much to bring us to America and give us a better life. Today, I am a successful nurse, and all my siblings are successful. My parents made this all possible for us. They sacrificed to give us and our families future generation a much better life than we would have had in the small village in the Island of Sao Miguel. It is a beautiful place that I love to visit, but even today there is still a lot of poverty on that beautiful Island and health care access is not what it is in America. I am thankful for the life my parents made possible by making that sacrifice and even through their fear of the unknows having the guts to get us all on the airplane to a land unknown. I will always remember my first real doll, even if I only had her for a short time. I forgave my sister for leaving my dolls head on an airplane, but I will tease her about it forever and she still owes me a new doll.