I started playing soccer at about four years old, I still remember how nervous I was to play my first game. Butterflies were in my stomach, I didn’t think that I should play, but I still did anyway. We lost by three goals, and when I was coming off of the field I started crying. My mother comforted me telling me,  “The next time you will have to try your best to win, you have to forget about losing the game. It’s in the past now there is nothing you can do about it.”
   

I didn’t really understand what she said but I calmed down and tried to, “forget about it” anyway. The next game came up, and I won my first soccer game.  

   When the whole soccer season ended in the beginning of summer, we won the championship through our hard work as a team. All was fine and well until one long summer night, that changed my life forever.  
 

 It was a sunny evening on the porch, after a long day of play. The family of seven just finished eating at the dining room table. They laughed and giggled about what crazy things had happened to them that day. After telling their stories, they slowly entered their food comas, and said their goodnights, one-by-one went to bed and fell asleep, not knowing about the disaster that was awaiting for them at midnight. The sky grew darker, painted blue on blue, one stroke at a time, into deeper and deeper shades of night until it reached pitch black. The candle’s light lit the room like a nightlight, and the sparks rose and landed whenever they pleased. The computer quickly overheated by the heat of the flame, and the fire devoured the night like lion and a gazelle. The house was in flames; we all escaped while we could but one of us didn’t make it out. The firefighters didn’t enter because of the extreme temperature. My father sprinted into the building, trying to find her, but came out gasping for oxygen empty handedly. He wasn’t going to lose her, he went back in and finally found his daughter but she wasn’t breathing, yellow foam was bulging out of her mouth like carbon in a soda can. My father looked at his ash stained daughter in terror. He searched for a heartbeat, but found nothing. I couldn’t process what was happening in the moment, all I could think about is how Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Halloween, Court Day, and my birthday was going to be different without her.
   

My sister was laying on the bed, lifeless. The doctors said that she was dead, but we weren’t going to forget about her during our daily lives, life was not the same without her. We prayed everywhere we went, everything that reminded us about her changed the mood from happy to dreadful. I didn’t understand why my mom and dad cried every night, but I prayed anyway. All we had was prayer and one day it all paid off, a miracle happened, she just woke up like she had just woken up from her sleep. We still from this day praise god for blessing her with life, we felt as if we won the grand prize, the luxurious vacation, the war. 
 

 That was just the beginning, we had lost everything we had, and were living in the basement of our aunt’s house. We struggled to get back on our feet and by my mother’s and father’s hard work we were able to buy ourselves a home that we live in today. Looking back on this moment I often think about this disaster. How are whole family had to overcome the risk of our sister’s life as a team through lots of prayer, and how my parents worked together and were strong enough to work even harder than they did before even after their depression from my sister’s tragic death. Like soccer, you have to let go of your past and look for the future, and sometimes with lots of sweat and hard work, you can bring the trophy home as a souvenir, then do it all over again. I believe in letting your bad past slip through your fingers, and hanging onto the good memories. Look toward the present and the future, so they can be better. Don’t get distracted by what you’ve done, focus on what you are now and who you will be.