“There he is!” my older sister shouted, pointing into the crowd.
We were in the airport in New York City. People rushed all around us.
I looked from face to face, but I couldn’t find my dad.
Then my sister ran ahead, right into a man’s open arms. My mom ran up to embrace him next.
When it was my turn for a hug, I hesitated. I stuck out my hand to shake instead.
I knew the person standing in front of me was my dad, but to me he was also a stranger. He looked different from how he had looked on a tiny phone screen.
I was 9 years old, and I was meeting my father in person for the very first time.
“There he is!” my sister yelled.
We were in the airport in New York City. People rushed all around us. I looked around, but I couldn’t find my dad.
My sister ran ahead. She rushed into a man’s open arms. My mom ran up to embrace him next.
When it was my turn for a hug, I hesitated. I stuck out my hand to shake instead.
I knew the person standing in front of me was my dad. But to me he was a stranger too. He looked different from how he had looked on a phone screen.
I was 9, and I was meeting my dad in person for the first time.
“There he is!” my older sister shouted, pointing into the crowd.
We were in a busy airport in New York City. People rushed all around us. I looked from face to face, but I didn’t recognize my father.
Then my sister raced ahead, straight into a man’s open arms. My mother hurried to embrace him next.
When it was my turn for a hug, I hesitated—and then I stuck out my hand to shake instead.
Although I understood that the man standing in front of me was my dad, in some ways he was also a stranger. He looked different from how he had looked on a tiny phone screen.
I was 9 years old, and I was meeting my father in person for the very first time.