Often you don't know what you have until you lose it. When I was 7 years old, my hardworking father's jewelry business went bankrupt. I didn't know what the word "bankrupt" meant, and when my parents sent me to stay with family friends in Los Angeles while they addressed the situation, I assumed that I would return home to my normal routine. But when I returned, it seemed everything had changed. Our two cars that I had ridden in to school or to play with my friends were gone. The air conditioner that cooled us during the brutally hot Colombian summers had been sold. Our color television had been traded in for a smaller, black-and-white version. Foods that I loved were replaced with the bland staples a mother buys when food becomes sustenance instead of something to be enjoyed.
展开▼
